Fishing for Stars
by Peppermint Wynter
Summary: When the abuse of Harry's relatives gets to be too much, Dumbledore devises a master plan to keep everyone safe and happy. But how happy will Harry, Severus, and Remus be in the same house? Throw Voldemort in and chaos ensues. HP/SS, HP/RL AU after GoF
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: I finally found two amazing betas (one for grammar, and one to bounce plot off of), and so have made a few adjustments to this fic. There aren't many, and if you decide not to re-read through the first three chapters then you won't have any confusion during the next few. Happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own it. Duh. **

Harry's sixth year hadn't started out in a particular momentous fashion. Like the year before, everything had been generally quiet. He kind of felt like a normal student, really. Voldemort, surprisingly, had been silent since his return at the Triwizard Tournament, and it had allowed for quite the ordinary fifth year. During it, he was made a Prefect, won the Quiddich Cup, found he had quite the knack for Transfiguration, earned a fair few passing OWL grades, fought with Draco Malfoy a few times, and lost the house cup by ten points to Ravenclaw.

The only exciting thing that had happened in the first part of his sixth year was that Remus had been reinstated as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher (after quite a few trials and re-trials and all around legal bullcrap). Apparently parents had finally decided that, after what Moody had turned out to be, a mild tempered werewolf who made sure to stay away at the full moon really couldn't be all that bad. The Ministry caused quite the upheaval, but Dumbledore played them like so many chess pieces and, after two years, finally got the okay to get him back in the school.

The students were quite pleased (minus Draco Malfoy and a few of his sheep-like followers), seeing as their teacher for fifth year had been a complete and total waste of space. He made Gildory Lockheart look like a genius. Remus really was the best Defense teacher they had ever seen.

Harry went to Remus at the beginning of the year and pleaded with him to give him extra defense lessons so he could better prepare himself for the war against Voldemort. Remus had at first refused, but decided after many arguments and lots and lots of pleading that Harry was right. Like it or not, try as they might to avoid it, there was a certain megalomaniac who would stop at nothing to see Harry to the grave. They decided it was better kept secret, so they told no one except Ron, Hermione, and the Headmaster (who occasionally showed up to help or insist upon rest when the two of them got too carried away).

Despite the calmness, Harry knew that the monstrosity named Voldemort would come for him eventually. So knowing, he had decided to turn down Dumbledore's offer for him to spend the Christmas holidays with the Weasleys or at Hogwarts, opting instead to go back to the Dursleys for the first time since he had discovered he was a wizard. He figured that the safest place - on everyone's account - for him to be would be where his mother's blood protection was.

Well, he was wrong. His uncle had been livid when Harry showed up on their doorstep, and chose Christmas Eve to get absolutely sodding pissed. Harry tried to hide in his room, and was doing his Potions' homework (trust Snape to assign homework over the Christmas holiday) when Vernon slammed the door open and stumbled into the room. It wasn't pretty, and Harry, nursing a swollen ankle and a black eye from being tossed down the stairs, finally decided that he had had enough. He was supposed to save the entire wizarding world, but there was no other option for his living situation than with hateful, prejudiced, awful Muggles who couldn't give a damn one way or another if he lived or died?

So he packed up his rucksack (there hadn't been a reason to bring his whole trunk), walked outside, and summoned the Knight Bus. It took him to Hogsmeade and he walked straight up to the castle and to Dumbledore's office. The Gargoyle jumped aside without Harry uttering a word and he marched up the spiral staircase and barged into the office to see a very startled Albus Dumbledore sitting at his desk.

"Harry! How did you – are you quite alright? What happened to you?" He looked concerned now, his white bushy eyebrows knitted together as he half stood out of his chair.

"No I am **not **all right! My _uncle _hit me with a bloody belt and tossed me down the bloody stairs." Harry snapped through gritted teeth. He really loved the old man, but he was so angry he could scream right at that moment

"Professor. This is it. I can't go back. I refuse."

"Harry, they'll be dealt with, but we've discussed this. There's protection that-"

"Look, they've treated me like crap my whole bloody life. I slept for eleven years in a _cupboard under the stairs,_ for Merlin's sake! They called me a freak and starved me. Frankly I don't give a crap what kind of protection Petunia's blood gives me. I _can't _go back. You can't make me," said Harry stubbornly, crossing his arms and lifting his chin in defiance.

There was a moment of silence.

"Harry, I had no idea the extent to which your relatives were abusing you. I'm so sorry." He wiped a tear from his eye, and continued, "I'll think of something. I'm still not sure that I can allow you to leave the Dursleys', but rest assured that this kind of behavior will not continue."

"Professor, I - "Harry started, but was cut off by Dumbledore's raised hand.

"I really must ask you to trust me on this Harry. I promise I'll find a solution; however, it needs to be one that keeps your protection in mind. Now I think you ought to head off to your dormitory. I daresay that Mr. Longbottom will be pleased to have some company," the Headmaster said. He stood and placed a hand on the small of Harry's back, leading him to the door.

"I'm not giving up on this, Headmaster," said Harry as the door began to close behind him.

"Nor am I, my boy," was the last thing he heard before the door shut and he was left in the dark staircase on his own.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

A few days later, as the other students were arriving back from their vacation, they were all sitting in the Great Hall. Albus was at the head table, observing the boisterous children pouring into the room. Stroking his impressive snow-white beard, he stared around the room, seemingly deep in thought. He considered himself a tolerant man. He was patient and understanding – almost to a fault – and valiantly attempted to see the good in everyone; however, he was not blind, nor was he particularly obtuse.

He'd seen the signs of mental mishandling in Harry Potter since his second year at Hogwarts, but he knew that it was better for the poor boy than the utter horror he would encounter without the blood protection that his aunt provided. So, needless to say, when Harry requested to spend the Christmas holiday with his Muggle relatives instead of with the Weasleys or at Hogwarts, confused was a vast understatement to how Dumbledore was feeling. But despite several teacher's protests ("Have you finally lost the _last _of your marbles, Albus?"), he agreed to let him go.

Looking back on it now, he simply couldn't understand what in the name of Merlin he had been thinking. He watched a rather bruised and tattered Harry walk through the doors to the Great Hall and solemnly take his seat next to a furious looking Ronald Weasely, and thought back to the conversation he had with the boy a few nights ago. Truth be told, he was happy that Harry had stood up for himself like that. The boy was blossoming into a young man. Still, something needed to be done about his relatives. But what?

"What the bloody hell do you _mean _he tossed you down the stairs?" Albus heard Ronald all but screech at Harry. He smiled to himself, glad once again that Harry had found such an incredibly loyal friend at Hogwarts.

Albus turned his twinkling blue eyes up towards the dark cloudy sky, and followed the path of a snowflake as it drifted contentedly from the ceiling and disappeared just before it would have landed on Miss Granger's bushy head of hair. And suddenly, in that way which only someone in his head could begin to fathom, an answer to his problem flitted into his mind's eye. He smiled serenely before turning to the dour looking potions master sitting to his left and held out a steaming pitcher of spiced cider.

"Something warm to drink, Severus?" he asked politely.

Said man set down his fork (which had been full of baked yams and halfway to his mouth), turned to the grinning Headmaster and narrowed his dark eyes mistrustfully.

"What do you want, Albus?" he asked without answering the man's question, voice laced with suspicion. Dumbledore poured him a goblet anyway and set it down next to his abandoned plate.

"Funny you should ask, my boy…" he began, setting the pitcher down and turning to examine a piece of lint on his violet sleeve, "It's about Harry…"

Now Severus knew he was in for it, but nodded anyway for the Headmaster to continue.

Later on, Severus reflected that he really should have just walked away and secluded himself in his dungeons.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"ARE YOU INSANE?" came Snape's bellowing voice from the front of the hall.

Ron dropped his fork as everyone collectively snapped their heads in the direction of the Head Table. The offending piece of cutlery clattered noisily against his plate and dropped onto the wooden table with a thud, and then there was complete and total silence. Professor Snape was standing next to Dumbledore's chair, practically seething. His face was tomato red and bit of his lanky hair was whipped across his face, the locks sticking to the crook of his nose and onto his thick eyebrows. His plate had flipped onto the floor, spraying the nearest staff members with the remnants of his meal, and he had his fork grasped in his fist as if he wanted to stab someone with it. Knowing Snape, he probably did.

Professor Dumbledore, meanwhile, was leisurely picking bits of potato out of his lengthy beard, smiling happily as if it was the most amusing thing to have one of his employees screech at him and fling vegetables into his hair.

He said something quietly enough that no one but Snape could hear, and went back to his dinner, radiating composure. Snape opened and closed his mouth a few times, gaping like a particularly large and greasy fish, before tossing his fork onto the table and storming out of the hall, all the while mumbling and growling about meddling old coots and irritating children.

"Blimey... What do you suppose THAT was about?" Seamus asked, breaking the still shocked silence at the Gryffindor table.

All at once, every student in the room started whispering excitedly about what had just transpired between their hated potions teacher and their headmaster.

"Maybe he got sacked!"

"What if Dumbledore told him his dad died?"

"What if his _wife_ died?"

"Don't be stupid! This is Snape we're talking about. He doesn't _have_ a _wife_."

"What do you lot think?" Ron asked, looking around at his group of friends.

"I don't know, but I hope it was something awful," Ginny said flippantly, turning back to her dinner.

"I-I don't know, Gin... Awful for him probably means awful for us t-too. You know h-how he gets with us when he's a-a-angry..."' Neville stuttered, looking suddenly peevish and apprehensive.

"Harry, are you sure you're alright?" whispered Hermione concernedly, having only eyes for her obviously injured friend.

"Hmmm?" Harry asked dazedly as he pushed a few peas around on his near-full plate. "Yeah, Herm. I'm fine."

"I still say you should go to the hospital wing. That limp looks painful, and your eye looks positively horrid," Hermione whispered, hesitating a moment before gingerly reaching out to touch Harry's forearm.

"I told you I'm FINE!" Harry snapped. "Hermione, will you just lay the bloody hell off? I'm dealing with it. We can talk about it later, but just stop staring at me, alright? You're causing a scene."

"Hermione, I _told _you to leave it, didn't I? He doesn't want to talk about it. Why do you have to keep pushing?" Ron was staring at her exasperatedly, having actually abandoned his dinner in favor of reprimanding her. He really had matured a lot this year, and if Hermione hadn't been so upset about Harry she would have been proud of him.

"Thanks mate. Look, I'm not hungry. I'm going to go up to the dorms okay?" said Harry, laying down his fork and getting to his feet.

"I'll go with you," Ron said, turning away from his own plate.

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Weasley," came Dumbledore's voice from behind, and they turned as one to stare up at the man. "I need to talk with Mr. Potter, if that's all right?" he questioned, staring down his large nose at Harry.

Harry brightened a little. Maybe the Headmaster had found a solution! "Yeah, of course sir," he agreed quickly, and followed the man out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Ok, now the pairing WILL eventually be Snarry. It just might be a while before we get there. Enjoy! **

Looking back on things, Harry figured that he really could have taken the whole situation a lot better.

The Headmaster brought him up to his tower and went through his usual pre-awful-news rituals ("Lemon drop my boy?" "No thank you sir." "How about tea? Biscuit?") and asked all sorts of trivial things in that roundabout way of this that was meant to make Harry feel as If he had been brought up to the Headmasters office for something other than being informed of his impending doom ("So how are classes dear boy?" "Fine Headmaster." "Are you getting enough sleep? How about food? Are you certain you won't indulge in a biscuit?") before he really got to it.

"Now Harry. I know you didn't suspect it, but I confess that I brought you here to talk about something a little more serious than your classes."

It was almost comical how the Headmasters tone could change so quickly from jovial and upbeat to somber and droll.

"I had no idea, Professor," Harry replied in a subtly sarcastic tone that he had no doubt Dumbledore caught.

"Yes, well. We need to have a very important conversation Harry," Dumbledore continued, peering at him over his half-moon spectacles in an almost stern grandfatherly way which made Harry feel about six years old. "I think I speak for everyone when I say that your appearance after the holidays has caused quite a bit of concern and turmoil throughout the castle." here he paused, as if expecting Harry to comment, though Harry wasn't giving an inch in this.

"I feel I've been remiss the past few years in assuming you didn't receive any more punishment from your relatives than a normal child would, and I must very humbly ask you to forgive this particular transgression. I confess that I was blinded in my task of keeping you out of the hands of Voldemort. So blinded, in fact, that I seem to have placed you in the hands of quite a different type of evil."

It was one of those rare moments where Dumbledore looked so tired and weary that he genuinely appeared to be his age, and Harry immediately felt a sort of companionship with the old man; a kind of affection which he hadn't really ever known for someone other than his friends. He supposed that he would feel this way about a grandfather.

"Although it's a little late now, I still want to attempt to make some headway in to rectifying what's gone wrong."

Harry had expected the Headmaster to be sad, but instead, that infernal twinkle was glinting merrily in the old man's striking blue eyes. Harry waited with bated breath for the man to continue, not daring to hope yet that he would finally be free from his horrid relatives.

They sat amongst the whirring and buzzing of the various trinkets littered across the room, the winter sunlight slowly creeping out of the window as the sun sank back into the mountains. The portraits were, for once, silent and Harry felt as if his whole world was sitting there in that room with them, waiting silently for whatever life was about to throw his way.

Finally, Dumbledore took a deep, fortifying breath and sat up straighter in his cushy chair, placing his fingertips together and smiling down at Harry.

"Harry I am so very sorry for what I've put you through. Would I have known how far their abuse extended, I… well, I don't suppose we can dwell on the past, can we?" He started, talking slowly and thoughtfully. "No, no. We can't have that. No. All we can do now, my boy, is move on and up. Yes. On and up is the best way. And I have a solution. Quite the perfect solution, actually. Harry, over the next summer break and every one thereafter, I think that it's prudent that you live with someone else." His eyes were twinkling again, and Harry had one brief moment of excitement when he thought he might be able to go live at the Burrow _finally_, until Dumbledore continued with: "I am afraid though that it can't be the Weasleys. They just aren't well protected enough. No, we need someone particularly cautious. Someone whose home has very old and potent enchantments. We need-"

At that moment the doors to the Headmaster's office swung open with an almighty _thud_ and in strode the second bane of Harry's existence (Draco Malfoy being the first), Severus Snape. He had his usual sneer in place, and he looked fit to burst with anger.

"Albus we _need to talk about this __**foolishness**_!" he stormed.

"Ah, Severus. Perfect timing. We were just talking about you," Dumbledore said, his smile growing wider with every second.

Harry felt that he caught on to what was happening quite quickly, but didn't have time to congratulate himself as the outrage he felt spread through him. He stood up so fast his head spun, and yelled in protest "WHAT? Headmaster, NO! You can't possibly think-"

Snape too was protesting, shouting, "That he and I can live in the same home-"

"-without killing each other! Are you-"

"-completely and utterly INSANE?"

"Having that stupid git-"

"-that foolish boy- "

"-living under the same roof as me!"

"NO WAY!" They finished together, crossing their arms and glaring daggers at their bemused headmaster. They looked like twins, standing there in all black with their black hair, matching glares, and same offended positions.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen. Please calm down," Albus said calmly, trying hard not to laugh. "Sit."

They did, plopping down in chairs next to each other, arms still crossed, and staring in different directions.

"On any ordinary occasion, I would be perfectly willing to take your complaints in to consideration," Harry and Snape both snorted here, looked at each other, and quickly snapped their heads back in the other direction "but I really must insist this time that you do as I say."

"Like we have a choice in the matter…" Snape mumbled, but Dumbledore pretended not to have heard him.

"Professor, what about Rem- Professor Lupin? He's the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher! For the second time! Surely he could protect me!" Harry said, lighting up at his apparently brilliant solution. Remus had come back to teach after Sirius had disappeared the past year (he wouldn't tell anyone where he went because he didn't want to put anyone in jeopardy, but Harry got the impression that he was somewhere in Egypt).

"Ah… Harry, about Remus. We didn't want him to tell anyone, understand, but he has been staying with Severus since last year. He's somewhat of a target himself, you see. Being in Snape Manor's protective wards and having a potions master on hand to brew his wolfsbane potion every month really seemed like a great opportunity," Dumbledore replied jovially.

"What? How could you do that to him? Poor Remus!" Harry exclaimed.

"Poor Remus! Poor Remus? What about _**me?**_" Snape shouted, going a bit red in the face.

"You're _evil_. You can live through anything because you don't have a heart. Remus though… Sticking him alone in a—did you say Manor?" Harry cut himself off, just now figuring out what Dumbledore had alluded to.

"Yes Harry. Snape Manor is a particularly large estate, and I feel you will all have plenty of room to roam without stepping on each other's toes. Now if you'd kindly refrain from speaking to your professor in such a manner, I'd greatly appreciate it," said Dumbledore kindly, staring up over his half-moon spectacles knowingly.

"Knowing Potter's appalling lack of grace, he'd manage it if I possessed a whole castle," Snape sneered.

"I am _not _clumsy, you great greasy git!" Harry snapped back.

"Boys!" Dumbledore intervened, holding up his hand until they stopped shouting before continuing with purpose, "Now. You _will _be staying together in Snape Manor this summer break. You will not fight. You will be courteous to one-another, and learn to _get. Along._" He punctuated the last two works with a light rap on his desk, staring sternly at the pair of them over the absurdly large stack of papers sitting on his desk.

"But-" Harry started

"I really must protest-" Snape said, but Dumbledore cut them both off by clearing his throat and raising an eyebrow.

"That is all. We shall not discuss this further. Now it is quite late. Severus, if you would be so kind as to walk Harry back to his dorm," he said, leaving absolutely no room for argument.

They stood in unison, turned on their heels and stormed out of the room, down the stairs, and up to Gryffindor tower in complete and utter silence.

Harry mumbled the password "Dancing Billywig" and started his way in to the portrait hole, before Snape stopped him.

"Oh and Potter? It's after curfew. Ten points from Gryffindor," he said before turning with a swish of his robes and making his way swiftly down the hallway. On any other day Harry would have gone after the man, screaming and yelling in protest, but today he had more important things to do. He had to find Ron and Hermione and come up with a plan to get out of this horrible situation.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Snape _**Manor**_?" was Ron's first reaction after Harry had finished telling his friends of his woeful fate. "You'd think if the man could afford a _Manor House_, he'd be able to afford a decent cleansing potion for his hair," he said, causing Harry to smile despite himself. Ron was great at that.

However, his smile promptly melted away when Hermione decided to put in her two cents. "Well I think it's a brilliant idea," she said from behind the book she had picked up halfway through Harry's story.

"Hermione Granger! I cannot believe that you just said that!" Ginny piped in, popping her head up from behind the couch Ron and Harry were sitting on.

"Geez Gin, eavesdrop much?" Ron snorted.

"Well I was studying here before you lot barged in and really, Harry wasn't that subtle when he was talking about it. He was rather shouty, actually," she said huffily, coming around the couch and dropping down between her brother and Harry.

"Who studies on the floor behind a sofa?" Ron countered.

"Me, that's who! Anyway don't get all snippy with me; I'm on _your_ side," she sniffed, turning away from him and looking pointedly at Hermione.

"Oh honestly, there aren't _sides_!" Hermione snapped testily, putting her book in her lap and glaring irritably at the three of them.

"Oh yes there are Herm. There's the 'Harry and Remus shouldn't be put through that kind of torture all summer' side, and the 'honestly, Snape isn't so bad. He's kind of cuddly, really' side. And we all know which one _you're _taking!" Ron said, turning away from his sister in favor of staring Hermione down.

"I never said that!" Hermione snapped, turning a light pink. "I just mean that it makes sense. Where else could he stay with that type of protection? He can't possibly stay at Hogwarts all alone, Sirius is on the run, and Dumbledore wouldn't be home enough to protect him if he stayed there."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right Herm. You're always right… at least you'll have Lupin, Harry!" Ron said, trying his best to be bright and cheerful about it.

"Yeah I guess that's a pretty good thing. And we can always avoid Snape if we've got a whole manor to run around in." Harry said rather moodily. He couldn't help but think that this summer wasn't going to go at all smoothly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Edited chapter three. Still only one minor change. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: Still don't own it…**

"Really, Harry. Professor Snape isn't all that bad you know... He's a little contentious at times, but he's generally quiet and if not courteous then respectful," Remus said, sounding a bit like he was trying to convince himself as well as Harry.

They were sitting in Remus' empty classroom, taking a break from the training they'd been doing and munching on a few chocolate frogs.

"I don't see how you can defend him when he's been so bloody horrible to you. You _do _remember who it was that let Pettigrew escape and got you sacked don't you?" Harry said, lying back on the floor with a grunt.

The room was warm and the air was heavy. The candlelight sent flickering shadows skittering across the walls, and the smell of melting wax lingered indomitably in the room. The desks were all stacked against the walls, leaving the hard wooden floors bare and shining in the fluttering light. They had lain out a few cushions to begin with, but those were torn to shreds from being hit with one spell or another, and their feathers were littered haphazardly around the room. Remus and Harry were sweating generously, their shirts sticking to their chests and backs.

"Yes Harry I do. And believe me, it wasn't easy getting over that. But he's helped so much with the Order, not to mention all of the Wolfsbane potions he's brewed me without asking for a sickle in return. And he's put me up in his home without requesting anything in repayment. Severus may be a little bit rough around the edges, but he has his priorities straight. He's a good man."

Remus had shed his teaching robes and his tie, and undone the first few buttons on his white shirt so his collar bones were showing and a little bit of golden chest hair peeped out.

Harry looked up at him in exasperation, flipping a piece of sweaty fringe out of his eyes as he did so. "You know he only does those things because Dumbledore tells him to! You can't honestly tell me that he does them out of the goodness of his heart. It's so shriveled and black, there's no room for goodness in it!" he said, only half joking. Snape really did act like a heartless bastard where most people were concerned. Harry suspected that the only reason he ever behaved was because of some respect or (dare anyone say it?) affection for the old man.

"Well perhaps not," Remus said, swiping a hand through his hair and smiling bemusedly down at Harry, "but the point stands that he _does it_. Even if it isn't out of the goodness of his heart. Now we're done discussing this Harry. What's been put in to place is what's going to happen, and that's that. Let's get back to practicing your defensive spells. You need to sharpen your reflexes. I've been going easy on you, but Voldemort will not."

Remus reached for the glass of water sitting on the floor next to him and tipped back his head, taking a hearty draft of the cool, refreshing drink.

Harry felt his mouth go dry as he watched Remus' Adam's apple bob up and down while he swallowed. His eyes followed as a bead of sweat ran slowly down the man's tanned neck, over his collar bone, and down into his shirt. Harry swallowed thickly and turned away from his tantalizing mentor, a hot blush creeping up his neck and in to his cheeks. _Stop ogling the poor man! He isn't a piece of meat, and besides he's probably twice your age! _The reprimanding voice in his head always sounded suspiciously like Hermione.

"Are you ok Harry? You look a bit flushed. Do you need to stop for the night?" Remus asked, now standing and looking down on the flustered boy lying on his classroom floor.

"I.. er.. Yeah. I mean yeah I'm fine," Harry said quickly, jumping to his feet and brushing some invisible dirt off of his trousers.

He nearly gasped when he felt a hand in his hair, tugging some of the raven-black locks. He looked up at his smiling Professor, who was standing rather close, holding up a tiny white feather.

"You've got a few of these little things in your hair. I suppose we got a little carried away, eh?"

He laughed deeply, in that husky voice that reminded Harry of the wolf living inside of the sweet, timid man. Remus was standing so close that Harry could feel the heat radiating off of his body. He felt his face grow even darker, and ducked his head so Remus wouldn't notice.

"Er.. on second thought Moony, I think I'm gonna call it a night. Early morning tomorrow you know.. Yeah I'll uh.. I'll see you later, 'k?" He was stumbling over his words and he knew it, but he couldn't help it. Where in the world was this all coming from? Since when did Remus make him so blastedly nervous?

He didn't wait for an answer, instead grabbing his things and tossing his invisibility cloak over his head before dashing out the door. He barely heard Remus' confused. "Okay… Okay then. Night Harry!" over the pounding of his heart and the _clap clap clap _of his trainers hitting the floor.

He didn't stop running until he reached his bed, where he flopped down fully clothed and let out a great sigh. He could hear the others snoring over the pounding in his ears.

The room was dark and as his breathing evened out and his whirling thoughts started to slow their movement, he fell in to a fitful slumber plagued by dreams of chocolate frogs and werewolves.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The next day Harry woke feeling jumpy and unrested. His eyelids drooped and he had large dark circles under his eyes that he just couldn't be bothered to fix with magic. When he sat own to breakfast, he chose coffee over pumpkin juice, barely noticing the bitter burnt taste.

"You look like hell mate," Ron said as he took his seat on Harry's left. Harry grunted in response and took another sip of his black coffee.

"He's right Harry, you look awful. And is that _coffee_ you're drinking? Since when do you drink coffee?" Hermione took the seat to his right, looking concerned.

Harry swirled the brown liquid around in his cup listlessly, wrinkling his nose as the heavy scent drifted in to his nasal passage. "Yeah… I just didn't sleep well is all."

"Well you should rest for a while during your free period. You don't want to be too tired tonight," Hermione said, turning away from her sleepy friend and buttering a slice of rye toast.

"Huh? What's tonight? I don't have Quiddich on Mondays…" Harry replied dazedly. His head was so fuzzy that he could barely think. Meager amounts of sleep did not agree with Harry Potter.

"We're working on Padfoot's Project, remember?" Ron piped in through a mouthful of porridge.

"Oh, right." Harry took another fortifying drink of his coffee and grimaced. Coffee really was horrid stuff.

Harry had quite the schedule this year. On top of his usual classes, he had Quiddich practice Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday nights, Defense lessons on Sundays, and he, Ron, and Hermione were working on a special side project Monday nights after classes. Not to mention the rigorous homework schedule and the advanced N.E.W.T. studying Hermione was insisting they needed to do. Harry and Ron didn't take it too seriously, seeing as N.E.W.T.s weren't for another whole year.

The idea for their side project had come to Ron, of all people, over summer holiday after Harry had told them about his dementor attack:

_They were sitting with Sirius in Grimmauld Place, playing fetch and talking about the absurdity of Harry not being allowed to defend himself against further attacks without being chucked out of Hogwarts, when Ron suddenly have a very Hermione-like gasp and dropped the candlestick he was about to throw for the great black dog wagging its tail in front of him. _

"_Padfoot!" He exclaimed, and said dog cocked his head curiously to the side. _

"_What did he do? Pee on your book bag?" Harry joked from across the room, but Ron didn't laugh. _

"_No Harry! Don't you get it? He's an animagus!" _

"_Oh well spotted Ron!" Harry snorted. _

"_Stop it! I'm serious! The dementors don't affect him because he's an animagus!" Ron yelped as he jumped out of his seat._

"_Oh Ron! You're a genius! I can't believe I didn't think of this before!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly, throwing Ron a glowing smile that sent a deep blush rushing in to his cheeks. _

"_What am I missing here?" Harry asked confusedly from the couch. _

"_They want you all to become unregistered animagi, Harry," Sirius said, standing up in his human form. "And I for one think it's a brilliant idea! The new Marauders! You three are perfect for it." _

_He was positively beaming at Harry, and it was infections. _

"_You really think we could Padfoot?" He asked, a wide grin stretching across his face. _

"_Of course you can Harry! You've got the strength, Hermione's got the brains, and Ron's got the spirit. I've got all of our old research and notes and even the books we used. I bet you three will pull it off before the year is over." _

"_So it's settled then! We'll start the first week of term."_

_None of them could remember the last time they had seen Sirius so excited, and Harry would have gone through anything to see that crazed smile stick to his handsome face. _

Just remembering the kind of smile the news had brought to Sirius' face gave Harry that extra burst of energy that the coffee was failing to instill in him, and he made it to his free period with little more than the usual loss of house points in Potions ("Really, Potter, with bags that large under your eyes it's a wonder the only ingredient you botched up was the Asphodel. Ten points from Gryffindor for doing the potion incorrectly and ten points for showing up to class looking like you were hit by a train."). His free period was right before lunch, which meant he could sleep through both without being bothered.

He woke up feeling refreshed in that way that only a long deep nap can make someone feel, and dashed to Defense Against the Dark Arts feeling bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. That lasted all of three seconds after he bounded in to class and ran smack in to Remus Lupin's finely toned chest.

"Whoa there little guy!" Remus exclaimed, reaching out and grabbing Harry's arms to steady him.

Harry gasped and in return got a lovely wisp of lemongrass, spearmint, and musk that invaded his senses and dazed his already clouded mind.

"You all right there Harry?" Remus asked, looking down at the once again flustered youth and holding him at arm's length. Harry was suddenly aware of all of the eyes in the classroom on him, and blushed from his toes to the roots of his hair. _Merlin, did they all see me sniffing him? _He thought, mortified.

"I'm fine Professor Lupin. I'm sorry. I'll just…erm… I'll just take my seat now," he stammered, quickly ducking out of his professors' arms and making his way to his seat between Ron and Hermione.

He turned to Hermione and instantly regretted it when he saw the look on her face. She only ever wore that expression when she was working out a puzzle that no one else could seem to find the pieces to. Like when she had been the only one to work out that Remus was a werewolf. The only problem was, Harry wasn't quite sure what he was afraid of her figuring out.

"Right class. Today we'll be practicing stunning hexes, so if everyone would kindly get out of their seats and push their desks to the walls," Professor Lupin said from the front of the class and everyone got up to obey.

When they were done, Harry looked around the room and was instantly reminded of the night before. He couldn't help thinking about how amazingly see-through Remus' shirt had become. It left almost nothing to the imagination. Harry flushed a little as he remembered the light spattering of golden hair, the hint of hidden muscles, and the two dusky little nipples that he could see through the man's cotton over-shirt. He couldn't help wondering what else those bagging teaching robes were hiding…

"Stupefy!" was all Harry heard before he flopped back on to the cushion someone had kindly placed behind him. His mind had been so occupied with undressing his professor that he hadn't notice the class beginning in earnest, and it had earned Ron a free shot to knock him to the floor.

"You all right there Harry?" Ron's beaming face was looking down at him and Harry couldn't help but smile at the cheekiness of him as he got to his feet.

"Yeah, yeah. I was distracted, but don't expect another free shot like that one!" he said, punching his friend playfully on the arm before they took their stances again. All thought of naked professors was erased from his mind as he and Ron started going at each other. It was just the type of physical exertion he needed to get his mind off of things.

By the end of class, they were both panting slightly, but grinning like madmen. They had snuck a few different curses in while their professor wasn't looking, and Harry was sporting bright purple hair that he suspected wouldn't go away for days, while Ron had the bill of a duck. McGonagall would be proud of his transfiguration skills. All-in-all, it had been rather an amusing class.

"Harry, would you mind staying a moment after class?" Remus asked as everyone was packing up. Harry waved his friends away, promising he'd make it their next class on time.

When all of the students had left, Remus shut the door behind them and walked back to his desk. He sat casually on the edge of it and looked pointedly at Harry. He looked at Harry's hair and snorted, waving his want to change it back to its normal color. When he was done, he tucked his wand away in his sleeve and crossed his arms.

"All right boy. Time to spill. What's been going on with you? Something happened last night that you're not talking to me about. Was it Voldemort? Because really if it was Harry you need to talk to me about it so that the headmaster and I can be prepared."

Harry snorted at how off the mark that statement really was. _Oh if only you knew, Remus. _He thought.

"No Professor… It wasn't Voldemort. I've just been feeling under the weather, you know?" He said, bowing his head a little to hide the blush creeping back in to his cheeks.

"Professor huh? Now I know something's up. You haven't called me Professor in private since you were thirteen! Harry, you can talk to me," he said, trying to catch Harry's eye. "If Voldemort isn't the problem, does it have anything to do with what happened over the holiday?"

Harry looked up sharply at that. Dumbledore had told him?

"That's it, isn't it?" Remus' voice was softer now, and his wide amber eyes were shining with concern. "Harry, none of us knew what was going on. I'm so sorry."

"No, no! It wasn't all that bad. It's not like they starved me _all_ the time, you know? And the cupboard was decent sized. I had a bed in there and everything…" Harry started desperately. The last thing he wanted was to make Remus sad.

Remus didn't know what to make of the youth standing in front of him. How horrible must his upbringing have been if he could say things like 'It's not like they starved me _all_ the time'? The poor kid had probably lived the entire first part of his life wondering _**why? **_Wondering why people who were supposedly his family would treat him as if he were little more than a criminal or a house elf. Just thinking about it made the wolf inside of him howl with rage, and for once the man inside him was right there with the wolf, lusting for the blood of those abhorrent Muggles.

"Harry… Don't you realize what kind of statement you just made? How can you say something like that? 'The cupboard was decent sized'? It doesn't matter what _size_ it was! The fact of the matter is that they took in a helpless child and treated him like a slave! No one deserves that. Just the thought of it makes me absolutely livid!" By the end of his statement Remus was positively growling. The sound of it sent pleasant shivers of arousal up Harry's spine. The way his eyes flashed yellow almost made Harry groan.

"Remus, it's okay. Really! I won't be going back there ever again anyway," Harry said, laying a hand on Remus's clenched fist.

"No you will _not_!" He growled out angrily. "And it is most certainly NOT okay Harry! Look at you! You still have a black eye from the way that awful walrus of a man handled you, and I will not stand for it!" He snarled, and Harry couldn't help but be amazed. Was this what Remus was bottling in all the time? Was the wolf truly this angry and protective?

"Remus calm down, okay? You have a class soon, and you're eyes are yellow. You'll scare the first years if you keep going on like this you know," Harry said soothingly, and sighed with relief when Remus seemed to come back to himself. It may have been sexy to see the man lose control like that, but it wouldn't do to have the kids (or their parents) reminded that a werewolf was teaching at the school.

"I'm so sorry about that Harry. Sometimes I just can't control my temper…" he said, sheepishly running a hand through his tawny hair. "But I'm serious. Don't ever undervalue yourself like that. No one deserves to be treated the way you were treated."

Remus' amber eyes had that sad shine back in them, and Harry's heart constricted. Why did he cause so much pain in the people he loved?

"I-" he started, but before he could fully form a response, Remus had gathered him up into his arms and was hugging him tightly to his chest. Harry felt as if his feet had left the floor, and a million butterflies had suddenly burst to life inside of his stomach. He instinctively wrapped his arms around the larger man and buried his face in his chest, breathing deeply of that heavenly scent he had only briefly encountered earlier. Remus' strong arms and warmth were enveloping him, and his head was spinning in quite the pleasant way.

"I know you think you're somehow at fault for people getting sad about things that have happened to you, but you're not. Don't ever think that you are. We just all love you and care about you so much. You're such a kind-hearted person and it's so hard to find out all of the things people have put you through. It just isn't fair."

Remus' voice was muffled by Harry's hair, but Harry could hear what he was saying straight from the man's chest. It was so soothing that Harry didn't think he ever wanted to let go. When was the last time someone had held him like this? When was the last time someone had wrapped protective arms around him that promised to make everything better? It was heavenly.

All too soon though, Remus composed himself and moved away, ruffling Harry's hair in a sort of embarrassed way. He wouldn't quite meet his young companion's eyes. "All right Harry. Best run along to your next class. I've kept you long enough," Remus said, holding open the door for a still quite muddled Harry.

"Thank you Remus," as all he could manage as he glided out the door and to his next class. It really had been a wonderful day.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0O

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were using the Room of Requirement for Padfoot's Project. They met up there every Monday night at nine and got down to work. The room had a couple desks, a book shelf filled with the books Pads had given them plus some extras, a few cushions, and plenty of animal posters to get their minds something to focus on.

"We really should get it this time. We all managed something last week, and the books say that once you get one aspect of your animal down, the rest will come easily," Hermione said, skimming the large tome in front of her.

Last Monday Hermione had sprouted whiskers early on in the night. By the end, Ron had gotten large canine-like teeth, and Harry had managed to develop a set of large triangular ears on top of his head. After a few good laughs and a lot of reading on how to change back, they had all three decided to call it a night.

"So we all need to drink the potion again. It says it's necessary until we manage a full transformation. After that, our bodies will recognize our other form and shift easily from one to the other," Hermione continued, handing Harry and Ron each a steaming goblet full of the animagus potion. Harry noticed Hermione and Ron blush a bit when she handed Ron his goblet, and wondered when he had missed them realizing they had feelings for one-another.

They all gulped the thick liquid down and shuddered, placing their empty cups down next to the book.

Harry began immediately once he had felt his head clear. He imagined being an animal, running on all fours through the forest. He imagined he had huge paws, and a big bushy tail. He was running and running and running, the leaves and twigs crunching under him, the muscles of his flank stretching and pulsing. Suddenly he heard a gasp and looked up to see a Hermione and Ron staring at him in shock.

He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but all that came out was a strange sort of winey yelp.

"Oh Harry! You've done it!" Hermione shouted, and Harry whimpered as the loudness of it grated on his ears. Now that he was aware of the change, he noticed certain things he hadn't immediately. He could hear every move his friends made, and there was a multitude of smells bombarding his senses, addling his brain.

"Look!" came Ron's voice, and Harry looked up to see a young husky pup staring back at him. He was black, with an all-white face mask that extended on to his chest, belly, and legs. He had his same dazzling emerald eyes, and a huge bushy black and white tail. His large triangular ears were perked up. He could tell that he was still a puppy by his absurdly large paws and the almost awkward gangly way he was built. But he had done it! Before Hermione even.

Harry gave a great doggy smile and spun quickly around in a circle, snapping up his tail in his large jaws. He was a dog, just like Sirius! How incredible! And boy did it feel good! He felt a sort of restless power in his muscles. He felt he could run and run for days and nothing would stop him. And he wanted to dig!

He leapt on to the nearest pillow and started pawing roughly at it. When it gave a satisfying rip, he buried his face in it and started ripping the feathers out, tossing them in to the air.

Suddenly Ron snorted, tossing a pillow at Harry's head. "Oy! You! You look ridiculous!" Harry turned around the growl playfully at him, but instead of seeing his tail wagging, he saw his own jean-clad rear end sticking up in the air.

"Yes, it says we should try sleeping in our animagus forms to get used to them. Apparently it's common for the transformation to only last a few minutes at first," Hermione said, laughing as Harry spit a few feathers out.

"We'd better get a move on Hermione! He'll never let us live it down if he gets it tonight and we don't!" Ron said, screwing his eyes up in concentration.

It took more effort than Harry thought it would to change back in to his animagus form, but he managed it after a bit and rolled over on to his back in the feathers, letting his tongue loll out of his mouth happily. He really could stay like this forever.

About half an hour later, Hermione managed the transformation as well. She was a large long-haired calico cat, with dark honey-colored eyes and a great bushy tail. When she looked in the mirror, she gave a pleased little meow and pawed at her ear with one fluffy foot. Then she sat primly down next to Harry (who was still lying on his back with his tongue out) to watch Ron finish up.

After three hours and lots of coaching from Hermione (Harry still couldn't be bothered to change back), Ron managed to change as well. He, like Harry, was a dog; however, much to his disappointment, he was a little beagle pup instead of a great hulking breed like Harry. When he saw himself, he huffed loudly before turning his back on the mirror and plopping down with his head on his large white paws.

Harry finally got up from his position, stretched and yawned, then padded his way over to Ron. He nuzzled under his ribs and whimpered a little, trying to get his friend to respond. Ron simply huffed again and turned his head to the side. Annoyed, Harry nipped at the little dog's ear and Ron yelped in surprise, standing quickly and awkwardly. Harry smiled and crouched down, wagging his tail in the air and barking loudly. Ron caught on quick and pounced on him, and they wrestled like that until their flailing paws once again became human limbs.

"Oh honestly you two!" Hermione said when they had dissolved into a tangle of sweating body parts, laughing hysterically and breathlessly.

"Well I suppose there are worse animals I could turn in to right?" Ron said, grinning widely as he and Harry untangled themselves.

"Yeah. Like a ferret!" Harry exclaimed, giggling.

"Ron would never be a ferret. Beagles are loving and loyal animals. Just like Ron," Hermione said, blushing a little.

"Yeah, and cats are intelligent and observant, like you," Ron countered, grinning wider still.

"And huskies are loyal and trusting and playful. Not to mention they're natural pack animals. I think our animagus forms reflect our characters perfectly," Hermione continued, and Ron's grin threatened to cut his face in half.

"We should go show Remus! He'll be bloody amazed!" Harry piped in.

"I don't know Harry… Don't you think he'll be mad at us for being out of bed so late?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"Of course not! He's a Marauder after all! They lived for this kind of thing," Ron said before closing his eyes and concentrating hard on his animagus form. After a few awkward minutes he got it again, shifting seamlessly into his little beagle body.

"Oh all right," Hermione said, changing into the fluffy calico once more.

"Wicked!" Harry grinned, shifting down in to the husky pup.

The door opened of its own accord, and the three of them dashed off up the steps towards Remus' quarters. _Could this day possibly get any better?_ Harry thought excitedly as he listened to the padding of his paws hitting the hard floors.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: Alrighty, here's the new chapter! Sorry it took so long. My betas are just as busy as I am haha. And my plot beta is quite… thorough. Not that I mind. It's quite humbling to get a good butt kicking when you get carried away ;) **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Meh. **

When the trio arrived at Remus' office door, they stopped short. How were they supposed to get the man's attention? It was late, and he was very probably not in his office at all. They were pretty certain that his rooms were close to his office though. Still, how to get him out?

Harry looked behind him at the cat and beagle and cocked his head to the side in question. Hermione looked at him as if he were a moron (in that way that only cats can seem to accomplish with their eyes alone) and meowed loudly. Harry got the idea as her meow echoed off the walls, and gave a huge, resounding bark. Ron gave a long, loud beagle bay, and then started, looking around as if he couldn't believe the sound had come from himself. Harry grinned inwardly and opened his extensive fuzzy jaws to give howling a try, but before he could utter a sound he heard hurried footsteps and a very familiar scent invaded his canine senses.

"All right you three! What are you trying to do, wake the whole castle?" Came Remus' tired, but amused voice and they all turned as one to stare at the man briskly walking towards them from around the corner. He was carrying a small stack of papers, and must have been on his way back to his office when he heard the ruckus the trio was making. "You could have knocked, you know," he said in rather a reprimanding tone, but his smile betrayed his true feelings. "Come on in, you little trouble makers."

They followed him in a single-file line to his quarters, Harry bounding happily along in the lead. When the door closed behind them, Remus turned once again to look at the three illegal animagi in front of him. Hermione sat preening by the door, looking like she had never been more proud of herself. Ron was standing on his stubby little legs, wagging his tail excitedly, and Harry was already plopped upside-down on the couch, his tongue once more lolling out from between his impressively large teeth.

"Well, well, well. I knew you three were up to something. Wait until Sirius hears. He's going to be so damned pleased with himself for having this kind of influence on you," said Remus, grinning widely and going over to stroke Hermione's feline head. She purred appreciatively and he chuckled. From the couch, Harry's head snapped up and his eyes narrowed. _Why was he petting _her_? _He thought, jealousy rising in his throat like bile.

Without further ado, he jumped up from the couch and pranced over to Remus. He crouched down on his front legs and wagged his tail rapidly in the air, whining in that sad yelping way he had managed earlier. Remus turned bemusedly towards him and smiled. "Yes, I remember when Sirius first became an animagus he was quite the attention hog as well. It must be a large dog thing," he commented, before scratching Harry roughly behind the ears. "Although, Sirius is still quite the attention hog," he chuckled.

Harry yipped happily and jumped up to lick the crouching man's face. Remus playfully swatted him away and returned once again to a standing position. "Well, you three really are quite the impressive creatures, aren't you? I suppose we'll have to come up with nicknames for you all."

"Professor, how did you know it was us?" asked Ron from the other side of the room. Evidently, he couldn't quite manage to hold on to his transformations as long as the others yet.

"Well it was kind of obvious, wasn't it? Why in the world would two dogs and a cat be loitering around outside my door otherwise? Besides, Hermione's bushy fur was a dead giveaway for me," Remus said. Harry noted how tired Remus sounded, and then began to notice other things he had missed in his excitement: Remus' robes were covered in soot, his hair was unusually messy, his eyes were red-rimmed, and he looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks. A regular sleep schedule, plenty of Hogwarts meals, and their defense lessons had gotten Remus looking healthy and fit, but that night he looked every bit as he did the very first time Harry had set eyes upon him. He looked like a worn out vagabond who went days without sleeping.

_What happened to him?_ Harry wondered, cocking his head to the side in concern.

An instinct he wasn't even aware he had set in, and he trotted along behind Remus until the man took a seat in a plump armchair. He wagged his tail slightly and looked up at the man with a sad expression in his canine eyes before resting his head on the man's thigh with a huff.

Remus stared down at the fuzzy head resting in his lap and couldn't help but smile a bit. He patted Harry softly and was rewarded by a gentle whine from the boy-turned-animal. "You'll have to be careful you know Puppy," he started, stroking Harry behind the ears. He looked down into the pup's emerald green eyes and continued almost wistfully, "Sirius was a lot like you when he was younger. He hated his family, and he hated the attention that came with simply being a Black... I suppose that's why he strove for his own sort of attention so much. But when he became an animagus, he found himself longing more and more to be a dog. He even started picking up canine like traits when he wasn't in his animagus form. I think it was nice for him to be someone- in this case, something - other than Sirius Black for a while. It became more and more common for us to see him lounging about as the great black dog, until one day in our 6th year, he just wouldn't change back. It took us a week to convince him... What I'm trying to say is that I know how you feel about being the Boy Who Lived, and I beg you to not let yourself drop too far into being someone else. Ok Harry?"

Harry yipped in response, wagging his tail uncertainly. It made sense to him. He felt abnormally at peace already in his animagus form. He looked over at Ron and Hermione, who were sitting on the couch watching him with concern. Neither one of them were in their animagus form. Was it because they couldn't stay changed, or because they didn't feel the need to? Looking back at Remus, Harry yipped before shifting back into Harry Potter.

"I know how you feel Harry, but it simply won't do to hide yourself from everyone," Remus grinned tiredly.

"I know you're right. It does feel bloody incredible. It's not just that I'm not Harry Potter as an animagus though; I didn't even realize I was feeling that way until you mentioned it. I just feel so powerful and full of energy!" And he did. He felt like he could outrun a unicorn.

"Yeah, me too mate! I wasn't even out of breath from running all the way here," Ron agreed, happy that his friend wasn't going to try and stay a dog forever.

"The book said that animagi naturally acquire the stamina of their inner animal once the transformation is complete," Hermione commented, knowledgeable as ever.

"Animagi naturally acquire many things once the transformation is complete," said Remus, slipping easily back into teacher mode. Harry walked over to the couch and situated himself between Ron and Hermione, shoving them both apart and grinning at their protests. Remus smiled and continued, "There are a few things that you should know. You may be aware of them already; however, I feel it's prudent to be sure. As an animagus, you should know that while you will have full brain function in your animal form, you will also very probably start to gain instincts from the species you've changed into. That is, until you gain control of your inner animal, so to speak."

Hermione looked as if she were itching to write all of this down, sitting on the edge of the couch and hanging off of Remus' every word. Harry and Ron rolled their eyes at each other and looked back to their professor. "Your forms were chosen based on your personalities. Ron, you're loyal, smart, and a natural strategist. You'd be ideal for hunting, like the beagle. Hermione, you're intelligent, graceful, and quick; much like a cat. And Harry, of course. You're sweet, loving, active, and powerful. You're naturally protective of your family, and love fiercely. A husky suits you well," Remus continued, and Harry beamed at him.

"Aside from basic knowledge about animagi, you're all also going to have to know how to be extraordinarily careful, because I'm assuming you don't plan on registering yourselves, not matter how much I urge you to. If someone were to find out, the consequences could be dire. You need to be sure that if you're sleeping as an animagus, you're putting silencing charms up around your curtains. Sirius almost gave himself away once because he was growling in his sleep," said Remus, grinning fondly at the memory.

He opened his mouth to continue, but was cut off by a sudden crackling in the fireplace that had them all jumping in surprise. Sirius' distressed face had popped up in the fire, looking around wildly. Remus winced, and his relaxed posture instantly changed to taught and stiff, and Harry wondered idly what that could mean.

"Remus, it wasn't what you think! We were just-" he started, obviously not noticing the other three staring at him in shock. But before they heard just what it was that Sirius and whoever were doing, Remus cut him off.

"Sirius! How did you get to my floo? Never mind. It doesn't matter. Look, Harry and his friends are here, and you really shouldn't be using a public floo like this. You need to go, Sirius," Remus said brusquely. His eyes had shuttered, and he crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive manner, obviously trying to look composed in front of his students.

"Harry's here? Oh, I didn't see you there... How are you? Have you been doing ok?" he asked, but Harry could tell by the fraudulent smile gracing his lips that he was the last thing on Sirius' mind.

"Write him a letter, Sirius. You need to go. This isn't safe," Remus all but snapped before Harry had a chance to answer.

Mystified, the trio looked as one from their suddenly stiff professor to the sad head sitting in the fireplace. Harry turned to look at Hermione, who stared back at him with wide eyes and shrugged helplessly. Sirius and Remus were usually thick as thieves. What in the world could have happened to make them act this way towards each other? Sirius obviously had done something awful, but what?

Sirius took one last pitiful look at Remus before giving Harry a weak smile and disappearing with a 'pop'.

"Remus... Is everything ok?" Harry asked tentatively, and Remus seemed to wilt before them. He uncrossed his arms and rubbed his left eye tiredly.

"Everything's fine Harry," He said, staring in to the dying embers of the fire.

"We'll just head off to bed," Hermione said, standing quickly.

"But – "started Ron, but Hermione cut him off with a glare.

"It's an early day tomorrow, RONALD. We need to go," she said, glaring daggers at the protesting redhead.

Ron gulped and stood. Any time a woman called him "Ronald", she meant business.

Remus walked them to the door and opened it for them without a comment. Harry stopped at the hallway and waved the others on. Ignoring the scathing look Hermione sent his way, he turned to Remus and gave a half-hearted smile.

"I don't know what Sirius did, and I won't ask you to talk about it. But just know I'm here to talk if you need me. I know I'm young, but... Well, I consider you a friend. Just... Well I'm here if you need me, okay?" Harry finished lamely, staring shyly up at Remus through his too-long fringe.

"Thank you, Puppy. You're very mature for your age, you know that?" Remus chuckled sadly, ruffling Harry's hair. Harry tried his best not to be indignant at the term of endearment, and sincerely hoped it was just the man's half-hearted attempt at teasing him.

Harry launched himself haphazardly in to the older man's arms. Remus was surprised at first, but quickly recovered and wrapped his arms tenderly around the youth.

"Don't be sad, all right Remy?" Harry said, his voice muffled by his mentor's chest once again.

"I wish it were that simple... But you really do need to get off to bed now. You have Potions tomorrow morning, you know!" Remus quipped, gently prying Harry off of him.

He found himself looking down in to bright green eyes, a slightly rosy hue gracing the cheeks underneath them. Harry licked his lips and lurched forward slightly, before his whole face turned a rather alarming shade of red and he mumbled something unintelligible. Harry quickly turned and dashed off down the hall, leaving an extremely confused Remus standing in his doorway.

What in the world was going on with that boy?

O0o0o0o0o0o

"Geez Harry, what's wrong with _you_?" Ron asked as Harry barged in to the empty common room, panting and wide-eyed.

"I'll tell you what's wrong with him. He fancies Remus!" Hermione snipped, not even bothering to look up from rifling around in her book bag.

"I do not!" Harry retorted, unnecessarily angry. "He's a man!"

"Er... This is a Muggle thing, isn't it?" Ron asked, apparently bewildered.

"What do you mean 'a Muggle thing'?" Harry snapped.

"Don't take our heads off because you're embarrassed, Harry. And to answer your question: Wizards don't have 'homosexual' and 'heterosexual' people. You love who you love, and it makes no difference to anyone whether it's the same sex or the opposite," Hermione stated matter-of-factly, sticking her nose in the large book she had dug out of her bag.

"You mean Muggles care about that sort of thing? How bizarre..." said Ron, shaking his head in wonder.

"Well... He's still old enough to be my dad!" Harry tried, not even bothering to argue about the gay thing. There were so many things about the magical world that he just didn't understand yet.

"What's THAT got to do with anything? You can't tell me that Muggles bother with that as well!" the redhead seemed beyond exasperated.

"Harry... Wizards don't age as quickly as Muggles. Didn't you ever wonder how Dumbledore can do all the things he's capable of at such an old age? Or why Sirius is still so immature... Wizards age at about a third the rate that Muggles do. I'd guess that by Muggle standards, you and Remus would only be a few years apart," she said. She had finally looked up and was giving Harry that look which suggested he should have read this somewhere already.

"But we aged like normal kids!" Harry replied disbelievingly.

"Well we would have, wouldn't we? The aging process starts to slow as we come of age. There's a reason that we can't use magic outside of school until we're seventeen," said Hermione. Apparently having decided that the conversation was no longer worth her while, she turned back to her book, leaving Harry utterly bewildered.

"So you're saying that if Remus and I were dating each other, no one would care?" Harry asked.

"Well I wouldn't say that _no one _would care, mate. I reckon Sirius would have a few things to say about it," said Ron, grinning at Harry.

"Why would Sirius care?" asked Harry as he took a seat in a cushy armchair in front of the fireplace.

"You're not serious... You are!" exclaimed Ron, his grin widening. "You mean you honestly didn't catch what was going on in there? How thick are you, mate?"

"I'm not thick! What are you on about?" said Harry, mildly irritated at being laughed at. He looked over at Hermione, who was looking out of the corner of her eye at them. Her lips were pursed in that way that meant she was irritated at not being the first one to catch onto something.

Harry was half expecting Ron to tease them about not getting whatever it was he knew, and was pleasantly surprised when he said (with only a tiny hint of laughter), "Remus and Sirius are seeing each other."

Now that it was out in the open, it really made sense. The two were so close, and were hardly ever seen apart when it wasn't necessary.

Crestfallen, Harry looked at his folded hands in his lap and sighed. Not that he didn't want the two older men in his life to be happy, but the first person he was discovering that he had strong feelings for was taken. And not just by anyone, but his _godfather_. How's that for being turned down?

"Though, I'm not sure how long that one's going to last now. Looks like Sirius did something pretty bad, and Remus caught him at it," said Ron, his expression taking on a more serious note.

"How could he have caught him at it? No one even know where Siri – Oh! That's what the soot all over Remus' robes was about!" said Harry, the pieces clicking together like a puzzle in his brain. Remus must have been secretly flooing out of somewhere to see Sirius and caught him doing something awful.

"You don't think…" Hermione started, setting down her book again and looking worriedly up at the boys. "You don't think Sirius _cheated, _do you?"

"What? No, of course not!" Harry exclaimed, outraged that someone would think such a thing of his godfather. At his shout, Hermione flinched back, but wouldn't stop looking at him with those big brown eyes full of concern.

"I just think… well he hasn't really had a lot of time to come to terms with being free, has he? What with being constantly on the run and worrying every day about himself and the people he loves. And he's probably really confused and scarred from Azkaban. It's possible that he's not exactly in a normal frame of mind, isn't it?" she said, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. "Not that I'm saying he's a bad person or anything!" she added hastily upon seeing Harry's irritated expression, "But, like I said, he's probably not in a normal frame of mind."

Harry didn't reply. As much as he didn't want to admit it, what she was saying made sense. He looked around the common room pensively, taking in the red and gold furniture, the portrait of Godric Gryffindor (who winked saucily at him), the bits of things lying around from the joke shop items Fred and George were making, and all of the other things that made him feel so at home. The room was warm, and the firelight reflected merrily off of Harry's old glasses. Would his godfather, the man he had really come to view as a father, hurt someone as soft and sweet and gentle as Remus? Did he want to think that the man he so admired was capable of such a horrible thing as cheating on his lover?


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: Thank you to all twelve of my amazing reviewers! It's good to hear a bit of feedback . Anyway, here's chapter five. Enjoy!**

"Flopsy!" Harry exclaimed, struggling to breathe as he and Hermione erupted into another fit of giggles on the Room of Requirement floor. They fell onto each other and held on, gasping for air and laughing madly.

Harry looked up a minute or so later and instantly burst into laughter again when he saw the little beagle glaring daggers at them from a cushion in front of the fire. The beagle turned huffily around and stuck his nose up in the air, which still did nothing to calm the hysterical teens behind him.

The months had flown by until, before they knew it, the snow had all melted and the sultry season of spring leapt upon them. It was well into March when Hermione had decided (finally) that perhaps she was being a little too hasty with the rigorous studying she'd started them on for the next year's N.E.W.T.s.

Having also finished Padfoot's Project, this left the trio with quite a bit of free time. This particular Saturday night found them all seated on fluffy cushions in the Room of Requirement (which was stock-full of candies and drinks that never changed temperature – courtesy of the House Elves - cushions, armchairs, and a huge roaring fireplace), thinking up nicknames for each other. It was a tad late because they hadn't gotten there until Harry and Ron finished Quiddich practice, but they no longer felt much remorse for breaking the rules (with the exception of a few protests from Hermione).

"I think you underestimate the size of your ears, mate," said Harry, finally gaining control of his laughter and turning his tomato-red face towards Ron's now human back. Ron snorted slightly and turned around, his arms folded across his Gryffindor t-shirt (which clashed terribly with his red hair).

"Yeah, well… 'Flopsy' isn't the manliest name you could have come up with," he replied, still a little moody.

"Well, how about Snout? Beagles are known for their incredible sense of smell, after all," Hermione cut in, still grinning and red faced.

"Oh! I like that one. Good idea Hermione," said Harry, and Ron finally smiled a little.

"Well it's better than _Flopsy," _he said.

"It's settled then. Snout it is," Hermione said, scribbling the name down in her notebook.

"All right, your turn Harry. Give us a look," said Ron, and Hermione made a little sound of protest in the back of her throat.

"Wait a minute! We never got a real name for me!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, yes we did. You're Splat. End of story," Harry grinned, trying hard not to burst into giggles again.

"You will _not_call me _Splat!_ How undignified!" said Hermione, a blush rising once more in her cheeks.

Harry grinned at Ron and winked before shifting into the husky pup once more. He stood and traded places with Ron, sitting on the large cushion and staring unblinkingly at his two best friends in front of him. Hermione looked a little put-out, but Ron brushed his hand against hers and she seemed to forget all about her new nickname and how embarrassing it was. Harry grinned inwardly and his tail wagged of its own volition. He was really happy that his friends were finally starting to realize their feelings for each other. It took them long enough! Harry had been seeing the signs since their third year.

"How about fluffy?" Ron suggested, and Hermione snorted.

"Gangly?" she asked.

"Perky! Look at how his ears stick up," Ron supplied.

Harry heard the door opening before the others, and nearly pounced on whoever it was coming in. He dashed to the door, hackles raised, and was met by a very amused looking Remus Lupin. Remus laughed in that way which was beginning to make Harry break out in goose bumps, and took the last few steps into the room, closing the door gently behind him.

"How about Howler?" he suggested, grinning cheekily.

Harry watched as the tall, well-built werewolf strode gracefully across the room and dropped himself into a large cushy purple armchair that had shown up as he entered. He lifted one leg up and crossed it over the other at the ankle. His pant leg lifted slightly and Harry could see his golden leg hairs shining between his brown sock and black pants. He brushed a stray lock of tawny hair out of his eyes and smiled roguishly at the three of them. Harry felt his heart rate skyrocket immediately, and knew that if he weren't sitting there as a dog his face would be embarrassingly red. Merlin, but that man was gorgeous!

"Professor Lupin! You scared us!" said Hermione, sitting up a trifle straighter on her cushion. Not for the first time, Harry wondered if maybe he wasn't the only one harboring a bit of a crush on their professor. The thought burned his insides greedily, clawing harshly at his stomach.

"How did you know what we were talking about? I thought the Room of Requirement was impenetrable?"

"One of the good things about being a werewolf? Fantastic hearing," he replied, still grinning.

"You know, we all used this room when we were in school too. I don't know why it surprised me to hear your voices coming out of it when I walked by."

"You were eavesdropping?" Harry asked cheekily as he changed back into a human and took a seat on a puffy red cushion.

"I don't eavesdrop! I loiter. It's not my fault that I have incredibly acute hearing," said Remus in rather a chipper tone.

Harry and Remus had grown quite close over the past few months. It started with a tea here and there, and escalated to a tea almost every day, until the two were nearly inseparable. Aside from being with each other for their Defense lessons, Harry was often found lounging around by the man's fireplace, working on homework or helping grade younger student's papers. They often had tea in the afternoons, and occasionally Remus (truly showing his Marauder roots) would sneak Harry out to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer. Hermione and Ron weren't aware of the last one, seeing as Ron would have a jealous fit and Hermione would probably read him and Remus the rules about such things.

Harry found that Remus was actually quite young at heart, with a rather fetching underlying sense of maturity. He was kind, intelligent, gentle, quirky, funny, and quite mischievous. He had an incredible passion for teaching, and often slipped into lecture mode when Harry asked him for help on homework. Not that Harry minded; he loved listening to Remus. The man had a way with teaching that truly pulled a person in, making the subject interesting just with his excitement and overuse of hand gestures.

Harry knew all about his relationship with Sirius, and how Remus actually _had _caught him in rather a compromising position with Bill Weasley. Harry loved Sirius, but he still didn't agree with Remus giving him a second chance so soon. He felt that he was a little biased, what with his ever growing feelings for the werewolf, and didn't want to sway the man in the wrong direction. Besides, he loved Sirius and didn't want him to be hurt either.

That night, Harry could tell that something was wrong with Remus. He was acting normal, but there was a kind of pain in his eyes that spoke volumes about how the werewolf was feeling. Not to mention the fact that he was out wandering the corridors in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. Remus liked to walk when a lot was on his mind.

Not wanting to ask what was the matter in front of the others, he resolved to try and cheer the man up instead and tossed him a chocolate toad (the larger, white chocolate version of a chocolate frog). Remus grinned gratefully and opened the package, grabbing the toad and biting off one of its legs before it had the chance to escape. The night passed easily then, the four of them relaxing and talking until nearly four in the morning.

All too soon though, Remus took a look at his watch, which read _'If you're not asleep, you shouldn't bother!', _and shook his head bemusedly. "All right, you three. I'm going to be completely useless in lessons today thanks to you lot! Keeping an old man like me up until dawn. Honestly!" He got up and stretched loudly, grinning despite his words.

"You're hardly _old, _Remus," Harry chirped happily as he stood and stretched his long limbs as well.

Feeling bold (probably due to sleep deprivation), Harry gave Remus the sauciest grin he could manage. Said man swallowed audibly and cleared his throat before turning away to grab the tie he had shed earlier in the night. Harry smiled to himself and turned to his friends, who were standing rather closely together by the door and completely oblivious to the outside world.

Once they left the room, Harry waved his friends on and loitered back with Remus. They walked slowly in a companionable silence, until Harry decided to finally speak up about the man's earlier mood.

"What's wrong, Remus?" he asked, cutting straight to the chase.

Remus smiled a little half smile and looked down at Harry from the corner of his eye. "Can't get anything past you, can I?"

"Not a thing!" Harry agreed, bouncing a bit on his left foot.

Remus sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I went to see Sirius again," he said, and Harry knew, just by Remus' closed expression, that he'd walked in on something again. He tried his best not to be furious with his godfather, but couldn't help the reflexive clenching of his teeth.

"I don't know what the bloody hell that man is thinking!" he grumbled, and Remus chuckled sadly. "No, I'm serious Remus. I realize he's going through a lot right now, but no one in their right mind would throw away an opportunity to be with someone as amazing as you!"

Remus looked at Harry out of the corner of his eye again, and if Harry hadn't been busy fuming about Sirius, he would have seen a rather obvious look of shock and recognition flit across the man's face before he blushed and looked away quickly.

They reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and Remus cleared his throat gently, bringing Harry out of his reverie. Harry looked up at him and grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry Moony. I just… Well I don't know. Sirius is an idiot," he concluded.

"He's certainly acting like one now… I told him we shouldn't be together for a while," said Remus, darting his eyes away from Harry, embarrassed.

"Oh, I'm sorry Remus. He'll come around eventually," said Harry, his heart skipping a beat despite himself. He knew nothing could come of his feelings, but he _was_ sixteen after all, and it wasn't always easy to stamp out his optimism.

"Possibly… Well I think it's time to go to bed. You've got a full day tomorrow, and you don't want to give Professor Snape any more reason to take points from you," said Remus, and Harry nearly groaned.

"Yeah. Snape. Ugh. Well, night Remus. Sleep well," Harry said. He wanted desperately to hug the werewolf, but resisted. Instead, he placed a hand gently on the man's shoulder and squeezed it in reassurance.

"Rumbleroar," he said to the Fat Lady, who nodded sleepily and opened up for him.

"Night, Swiftfoot," Harry heard Remus say as the portrait swung shut behind him.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Harry arrived early for double Potions the next morning, trying hard not to incur the wrath of the bat living in the dungeon that just happened to teach the class. His efforts, of course, were in vain.

"Loitering outside my classroom, Potter?" said the sneering voice of Severus Snape behind him, and Harry turned sharply to see him walking briskly down the hall in that altogether impressive manner which made his robes billow out behind him. "Ten points from Gryffindor," he said, grinning evilly down at Harry.

"You're kind of a prat, you know that?" said Harry boldly, and Snape's eyes narrowed. Harry glared up at his professor, challenging him. He half-hoped to get sent to the Headmaster. Dumbledore never punished him when he knew Snape was being unfair.

"And you're an impudent brat. Another ten points for insulting a professor, Potter," he said, standing in front of Harry now and staring down at him threateningly. _Ten points? That's it? _Thought Harry fleetingly.

Harry looked up at him defiantly, and decided to test this new and less-harsh Snape. He didn't know where this mood of his was coming from, but he wasn't about to sit there and take Snape's unfair treatment of him today. Snape raised an eyebrow at him questioningly and Harry glared for all he was worth.

"Well you're a miserable misanthrope. Get over yourself," he snapped, and, like a bubbling volcano, Harry watched the blood rise in Snape's face. Snape's upper lip curled, and his eyes became cold with fury. He was clenching his hand in his pocket, obviously fingering his wand. Harry got the distinct feeling that if it weren't for the approaching footsteps, he would be on the receiving end of quite the nasty hex.

"Oh, has the Golden Boy been reading the _dictionary?" _Snape sneered, and Harry furiously fought down a blush. He hadn't been, but he had heard Hermione use the term to describe the man on a few occasions.

"Unsurprisingly, you horrible spoiled child, you've overstepped your bounds. One hundred and fifty points from Gryffindor, and you'll be serving detention with me every night for seven days, starting Friday," Snape said, taking one last satisfied look at Harry before turning on his heel and walking into the classroom.

Harry didn't know what to think. He's just insulted Professor Snape _twice _and more or less gotten away with it! Still, he'd lost so many house points that he was sure to get the silent treatment from his classmates for at least a week. _Miserable old bat. _He thought huffily.

He knew he should have stopped sooner, but there was something about Snape that just got to him, chasing all thoughts of house points and detentions out of his mind to be replaced with blind fury.

Harry was fuming as the other students arrived, and almost turned to leave; however, Ron and Hermione each took one of his arms and bodily dragged him into the room.

"You'll really be in for it if you skive off of Snape's class, mate," said Ron as they took their seats. Harry sat, as usual, between Ron and Hermione at the back of the class.

"Yeah, well, the stupid git's already taken a hundred and seventy points from Gryffindor and given me the splendid gift of detention with him for a week," he grumbled irritably, taking out his cauldron and setting it up in front of him.

"Harry! What did you do this time?" Hermione asked exasperatedly.

Harry had the decency to blush.

"I called him a prat and a misanthrope…" he mumbled, and grinned as Ron gave a startled laugh.

"Way to go, mate!" the redhead said, slapping Harry appreciatively on the back.

"Don't encourage him _Ronald_!" Hermione snapped, then: "Harry! What were you thinking? I know you don't like Professor Snape, but it's not like you to openly provoke him like that. You're extremely lucky that detentions was all that you got! He could have _expelled _you!"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut immediately as Snape began to write the ingredients on the board. He didn't know where his brashness had come from, but he refused to be sorry about it. The bat was being unfair, as usual. He deserved to get something back for once.

Still irritated, but not willing to lose more points from his house, he squinted up at the board and copied the instructions down the best he could. Not for the first time, he wondered at the intelligence of sitting in the back of the class when his eyesight was already off. Still, he'd rather squint than sit anywhere near his greasy old Potion's Professor.

The trio got up and gathered their ingredients, then sat down and absorbed themselves in their individual potions. They weren't allowed to work in pairs after Snape had caught on to the fact that several students were sitting back and doing nothing while their partners did the work. Crabbe, Goyle, and Neville hadn't gotten two passing grades between them since.

An hour and a half later, Harry looked at his potion, to his notes, and then back to his potion. It was the wrong _shade. _The potion was supposed to be an ocean blue, but was more of a powder blue. He didn't understand. He'd followed the directions to a bloody _T. _Time was running out, and only he, Ron, Crabbe, Goyle, and Neville were left without a vial full of potion to set on Snape's desk. His powder blue would have to suffice.

He filled two vials (he still remembered the time the year before when Snape had "accidentally" knocked his potion off of the desk), and brought one up to Snape along with Ron. He took a little pride in the fact that his potion wasn't a horrid mauve color like Ron's. Snape sneered at the both of them though, and Harry saw him write what looked suspiciously like two T's in his log book.

"Troll for you two, it would seem," said Snape, and Harry ground his teeth together, but said nothing. He'd racked up enough detentions for the month as it was.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Friday rolled around all too quickly, and Harry miserably informed Remus that he wouldn't be by to study that night before making his way down into the cool dungeons. He was surprised when he arrived to see a cauldron set up in the very back of the class (where he usually sat), and Snape writing ingredients down on the board.

"Take your seat, Potter," the man snapped without turning from his task, and Harry scurried to obey.

"Your performance in my class has been atrocious since day one, Potter; however, you passed your Potions O.W.L. with an O. Imagine my surprise. Tonight, we're going to figure out where the problem lies. And if you say that I _scare _you or make you _nervous _like your pudgy little friend Longbottom, Merlin help you," Professor Snape said, turning around finally and placing his hands on his desk.

"You will read every step aloud before you execute it. Begin," said Snape, sitting down at his desk and crossing his arms over his desk.

Harry furrowed his brows in confusion, but squinted up at the board nonetheless.

"Step one… uh… grind moonstone… finely," he made out, and made to grab his pestle and mortar. He nearly dropped them when Snape slammed his hand on the desk.

When Harry looked up, a wide smirk was spreading onto Snape's face. Harry didn't wonder why; Snape's amusement meant Harry had screwed up in some way, and he was about to find out how.

To Harry's surprise, Snape didn't say anything, but pushed the wheeled chalkboard around the desk and towards Harry and-Harry's heart sank as he read the words he'd been squinting at earlier.

"_Grind Monkshood firmly"_

Snape must have seen his dismay. "Better, Potter? I thought so. You do know that a required part of potions making in my class is being able to _read_?"

"I read just _fine_, sir!" said Harry defensively.

"_Fine?_ Potter, you couldn't even read the first line!Merlin, no wonder your scores have always been abysmal!Why didn't you ever buy a vision correction potion? You at least could have updated your prescription!" Snape was standing close now, and Harry couldn't help but notice how his greasy hair clung to the shape of his skull. It looked almost as if he had been wearing a Muggle bike helmet.

"My glasses are fine!" said Harry, the hot blush never leaving his cheeks.

"Then why, pray tell, are you always squinting at the board? You incredible _dunderhead!" _said Snape, and Harry could tell that he was getting irritated then.

"Well I sit in the back of the class!" Harry replied, as if it made all the sense in the world.

"And do your little comrades Weasley and Granger have the troubles you do? Do you ever see _them _squinting at the board like asinine fools?" said Snape, and Harry felt his cheeks color. Snape's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why didn't your relatives ever take you to get your glasses updated?" he asked, not really certain that he wanted to know the answer.

Harry snorted. "Yeah, right. The Dursleys? They gave me this pair of glasses when I was five. They belonged to our neighbor's grandson," he said, and Snape's eyes narrowed further.

"You mean to tell me that your Aunt and Uncle allowed you to wear the exact same pair of glasses for eleven years? You mean to tell me that they didn't once bother to have your vision checked for further impairment?" the Professor asked disbelievingly.

"Yes. Does that _really _surprise you after what the Headmaster told you about my relatives?" asked Harry, now becoming exasperated. "No offense, sir, but why do you give a rat's arse anyway?"

Snape's lips pressed together and he closed his eyes briefly, breathing out sharply through his large nose. Then, with the air of someone talking to a particularly obtuse child, he said: "I'm interested, Potter, because _you _are supposed to be the savior of the Wizarding world and you can't even brew a proper Dreamless Sleep potion. I _care, _Potter, because one of the most powerful wizards in the world is out for your blood, and you seem to be the only human being on this planet capable of besting him."

Harry was shocked at the near-compliment until the man continued.

"Not that anyone believes your victories have been more than sheer dumb luck. I don't know about you, Potter, but I refuse to leave the fate of the entire wizarding world to _luck." _

"Yeah, well it's been that way for the past six years! Why start caring now?" Harry asked irritably. He had just about reached his quota of insults for the week.

"Because, you silly little boy, I thought that up until now you were being purposefully obtuse. I thought you were just trying to be like your mutt of a godfather. But no, it's even worse than that. You couldn't _see _and never once bothered to ask someone about remedying the situation. You idiot, how would you expect to see a spell coming at you if you can't even see across the room?"

Here he paused, his onyx eyes boring into Harry's own. The fire there was unmistakable, and it took Harry aback. He didn't think his dour Potions Professor was capable of feeling passion about _anything, _but he obviously felt more than strongly about this. Harry felt it wasn't fair still. He'd always seen like that. How was he supposed to know there was something wrong with his vision? It was normal to him.

"Do you think that the sole reason for my harshness towards all of you idiots is because I take pleasure out of it?" he asked.

_Is that a trick question? _Harry thought, and he almost grinned. Almost.

"I'm harsh on my students because they need to be _prepared, _Potter. _You_, of all people, need to be prepared. The world isn't all sunshine and roses. The wizarding world is far more of a dangerous place than the Muggle world," he said, and for a second the trademark spite that laced his voice when talking to Harry was replaced with something different; a kind of humane tone. It was a tone that begged Harry to believe what the man was saying. It nearly made Harry believe that the man _cared _for him, if that were possible.

"So you're saying, Professor, that you aren't horrible to me because you hate me, but because you want to prepare me for the world out there?" Harry asked, and Snape's lips did a little upturn thing that, on anyone else, could have resembled the beginnings of a smile.

"Make no mistake, Potter. I dislike you almost to the very core of my being. You're arrogant, spoiled, and possess a blatant disregard for the rules. I do not, however, want you to die. I am sterner with you because I dislike you, true, but also because the entire world is going to be sterner with you. You're the Boy Who Lived, and those who aren't out for your blood are going to have expectations of you. Life isn't going to be easy for you after Hogwarts, boy," he said, and the bluntness of it made Harry let out a sharp bark of laughter, which earned him a raised eyebrow.

"I understand, sir," he replied with a half-smile.

"Go back to your dorm, Potter. We're done here tonight," said Snape, rubbing his temple as if the mere presence of Harry gave him a migraine.

It probably did.

Without a word, Harry packed up his things and made his way out of the classroom. He was just to the open door when he heard Snape speak up from behind.

"And Potter? Don't think I've forgotten about your glasses. You'll be sitting in the very front seat of my class until you get the problem fixed."

Harry groaned out a "Yes sir," and walked out. It just figured. There weren't any places to get glasses updated in Hogsmeade, and he didn't have enough money with him to pay for it regardless. The last few months of Potions were going to be worse than ever.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Severus glared at the closed door. The little brat's mere presence grated on his nerves. And the idiot hadn't answered his question about his relatives. '_After what the Headmaster told you about my relatives', indeed. _He thought bitterly. The Headmaster was keeping secrets from him again, and this time Severus Snape would _not _stand for it.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry this has taken so darn long! Midterms broke in, I got promoted at work (working 40 hours a week now, plus classes! Yikes!) and then finals rolled around haha. But here it is! Chapter six :D**

"Ah, Severus. What a surprise. Come in, dear boy," Albus said jovially. He needn't have bothered, for Severus had already stalked into the room and was standing in front of the Headmaster's desk. His arms were crossed, and the expression on his face would have made any normal man quiver with fear. Albus, however, simply looked at Severus with those twinkling blue eyes of his and smiled sweetly.

"Let's cut to the chase here, Albus," Severus started, ignoring the Headmaster's exclamation of "By all means, Severus!"

"There's something you're keeping from me about Potter."

"Whatever do you mean, Severus?"

There was a special vein in Severus Snape's forehead which reserved its throbbing specifically for Professor Albus Dumbledore. Not even Harry Potter could manage to provoke this particular vein into action. Severus felt it making its presence known and sighed irritably.

"I _mean,_ Albus, that there is some other reason you're sending that spoiled brat to live at Snape Manor during the holidays. He doesn't just need extra training, does he?" Snape snapped.

"What, may I ask, has brought you to this conclusion?" asked the Headmaster, interlacing his fingers atop his desk.

"It doesn't matter what brought me to this conclusion! The fact is that I know there's something going on here, and dammit, Albus, I refuse to have the boy under my roof under false pretenses! I _deserve _to have a proper explanation!" Severus fumed, and Albus smiled. He was used to the man's temper tantrums.

"Sit down, Severus. I'll explain, but if you don't calm yourself, that vein of yours is going to burst," said Albus, still smiling.

Despite himself, Severus sat in the cushy violet armchair offered to him. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, and when he looked up a tray laden with tea (just the way he liked it; three sugars, a splash of milk, and a few drops of calming draught) and his favorite raspberry cream cakes was sitting next to him. He raised an eyebrow at the old man, who grinned mischievously before taking a hearty sip of his own tea.

Fifteen minutes later, Severus felt that he could probably drink an entire batch of Calming Draught and still not be remotely relaxed. He couldn't believe half of the stuff that Lilly's sister had put the Boy Wonder through!

Or maybe he could. Severus recalled one day after their first year when he had first met Lilly Evans:

"_Witch, witch, you're a bitch! Witch, witch, you're a bitch!"_

_Severus heard the inane chanting long before he heard the sobbing. When he came upon the group of girls standing around by the lake in the woods behind his father's house, he nearly gasped. There, squatting on the very edge of the water, was a small girl with brilliant red hair. She was wearing a little yellow dress that was torn and muddy, and her knees were scraped as if she had fallen recently. There were rocks lying at her feet, and two other girls were standing around her, holding a few flat stones each._

"_Stop it, Petunia! Please stop!" the little girl wailed, and when she looked up Severus saw that she had a rather large lump forming on her forehead, and her magnificent emerald eyes were shining with tears._

_The two girls in front of her laughed, and the dark haired one tossed another stone at the hurt girl, and then knelt to pick up another one. _

_Severus had never been a compassionate boy, but seeing this poor little girl (a Gryffindor girl? He thought, recognizing her from school at last) kneeling there in the mud, pleading with the others to please, just stop hitting her with rocks, caused his heart to nearly break._

"_Why don't you make me? You _freak_!" the dark-haired girl exclaimed._

_After everything, hearing this twit (Petunia, was it?) call the pretty little red-head a 'freak' was what spurred Severus into action._

"_Oi! Leave her alone, you filthy Muggle!" he snapped, stepping out of the trees to face the little beasts._

_The two girls whirled around, and the one he hadn't heard speak yet dropped her rock guiltily. Petunia, however, merely placed her hands on her hips and sneered._

"_And who're you? Her _boyfriend_?" she asked scathingly._

"_No, I'm just the _wizard___who's about to hex you into the next century if you don't drop that rock immediately and leave!" said Severus haughtily, taking out his illegal wand. His friend Lucius had given it to him just after summer break, and said that it was untraceable so he could use magic outside of school. _

"_Yeah, right. Like you actually know how to use that thing. You're just like her! An ugly, pathetic, _FREAK_!" the hideous little girl screeched, and Severus' patience snapped._

"_Densaugeo!" he exclaimed, naming a spell he had recently read about in one of his mom's spell books. _

_Petunia'_s_ teeth began to grow, and grow, and grow, until she dropped the rock she was holding and screamed, grabbing at her face in horror. Her friend took one horrified look at Petunia's huge teeth and bolted back into the trees. _

"_Wait! Please stop! Don't hurt her!" the little red-haired girl said, standing on shaky legs and dashing over to Severus._

"_Please. Put her teeth back to normal," she pleaded, her eyes still glistening with tears._

"_This imbecile deserves what she's getting, and more!" Severus snapped, taking satisfaction in the horrid little girl's terrified sobs._

"_She's my sister! Please, she's just…She's just jealous about me going to Hogwarts. Please stop," the red-head implored, and Severus looked into her emerald eyes and just _knew _that he would never be able to deny her anything._

"_Oh very well!" he snapped, lifting the hex. Grudgingly, he shrank her teeth until they were only two or three times their normal size. He was a Slytherin, after all. He couldn't very well let her go entirely unscathed._

_Breathing heavily and still sobbing, Petunia felt her teeth, looked at him with wide eyes, and bolted after her friend._

_The little red-head turned to him and held out a petite white hand._

"_I'm Lilly. Lilly Evans," she said, and then: "Thank you."_

"_Severus Snape," he replied, taking her hand in his._

_And just like that, a friendship was formed. It lasted through all of their years in Hogwarts, and even after; Much to James Potter's dismay._

Now, sitting in the Headmaster's office processing all that he had heard, he couldn't help but imagine a little boy with striking emerald eyes huddled in a dark cupboard as his cousin tossed rocks in on him, Petunia standing there all the while and glaring evilly upon the scene with unconcealed glee.

It was one thing to despise a boy who he thought was pampered and spoiled his whole life; a boy who strutted around the castle without a regard for anyone but himself. It was a bit more difficult to hate the little boy who was raised in a dark cupboard, being called a freak, and starved for half his life. But dammit, Severus _wanted _to hate the idiotic boy! Never mind the fact that he was beginning to look less and less like James Potter's son, and more and more like a striking, confident young man. Never mind the fact that, in the past year, Severus was finding it more and more difficult to be nasty and unfair towards him.

Damn the stupid boy to hell!

Damn Petunia to hell too, the horrible wench!

"Did you know about this before, Albus?" he asked, positively seething. No one deserved that kind of treatment. Not even that blasted Potter boy; that stupid boy who was so like his arrogant father, but also so like his lovely mother.

Albus smiled sadly and nodded. "I knew a little. But the extent… I had no idea that it was so out of hand."

"That horrid woman! I should have killed her _years _ago, when I had the chance!" Severus snarled, clenching his hands on the armrests of his chair.

"Calm down, Severus. Although Petunia treated Harry horribly, she also protected him (albeit unwittingly). The Death Eaters never found him because his aunt's blood shielded him," said Albus. He held up a hand then to stop the protest he could see forming on the Potions Master's lips.

"I'm not saying that the way she treated Harry is in any was excusable; however, what's done is done. We cannot take away the things that the Dursleys did to Harry. We can only help him to move past it," he said. Then, as an afterthought: "Not that the boy really needs much help. He seems to be moving along quite swimmingly. He's been very mature lately, wouldn't you agree?"

Albus was smiling in that way which was meant to say: "I'm just a kind, gentle old coot and I love you!" But really meant: "I'm planning something just _splendid_ and you're none the wiser!"

"Indeed," said Severus. Not for the first time, he wondered what in the world he was letting the old man get him into.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0O

Instinctively, Harry knew that Voldemort's apparent silence couldn't last long. Still, when nearly two full school years had passed without a peep from the Dark Lord, it was simple for him to pretend that the man, if he could be called that, was gone for good. His illusion was shattered, however, by a morning copy of the Daily Profit being slapped down onto his bacon.

Harry looked up at Ron and glared as the red-head took his seat.

"I was eating that!"

"You'll want to read it, mate," said Ron, and Harry could tell something was wrong by the somber expression on his friend's face.

He read the headline, and his heart dropped.

_**Ministry Bereft: Five Employees Missing**_

_**Ministry officials were baffled when, early this morning, the fifth ministry employee this month was reported missing. When questioned about not reporting these missing peoples sooner, Cornelius Fudge had this to say on the matter:**_

"_**It's not uncommon for employees in the Department of Mysteries to take a leave of absence without informing us first. And frankly, it's hard to tell when they've gone. No one sees them except their own."**_

_**There were no families to be reached, but the minister hinted that all of the employees who have disappeared were top-notch researchers, and - **_

"What's the Department of Mysteries?" asked Harry, setting down the paper thoughtfully.

"No one really knows, do they? My dad says that the Unspeakables –"

"What are Unspeakables?" Harry interrupted.

"Unspeakables are the people who work in the department. Anyway, dad says that the Unspeakables don't talk to anyone except other Unspeakables. No one knows what they do, but everyone knows that it's dangerous stuff," Ron finished, scooping some eggs onto his plate.

"So d'you reckon Voldemort is holding them captive?" asked Harry, ignoring Ron's wince.

"Looks like it to me, mate. We knew he wouldn't stay quiet forever, right?" said Ron through a mouthful of eggs.

"Yeah…" said Harry gloomily. It was May, and Harry felt that, with one month left in the school term, he might have had another completely Voldemort-free year. So much for that.

"Don't look so gloomy, Harry. We don't _know _that it's Voldemort," said Hermione, taking a seat on his other side and setting down her own copy of the Daily Profit.

"Oh, come off it Hermione. You know as well as I do what this means. Voldemort is on the move again," said Harry, pushing his plate away. He wasn't hungry anymore.

"Yes, well, even if that's so, at least you're getting extra training from Professor Lupin. You'll be prepared, should he come after you," she said, pulling a couple pieces of toast off of the stack next to her.

At the mention of Remus, Harry perked up considerably. Remus was taking Harry down to the Three Broomsticks again that night, and Harry thrilled secretly at the prospect. It might be his sixteen-year-old imagination acting up, but he fancied that Remus had been shyly flirting with him as of late, and the idea of some time alone and away from the castle with the man was enough to make Harry giddy with excitement.

"Oh-ho, someone's in a better mood now," Ron said, grinning knowingly. "Wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the mention of a certain werewolf, would it?"

Harry's ears grew hot with embarrassment and he swatted his friend on the shoulder none-too-gently. Since Ron had picked up on Hermione's apparent little crush on their professor, he'd been taking every opportunity he could to mention Harry's feelings for the man in front of their bushy-haired friend. Harry felt that Ron needn't worry. Hermione may have a tiny crush on Remus, but Harry could tell that she was almost certainly head-over-heels for Ron. That didn't stop him from wanting to stomp on her foot whenever she pushed for Remus' attention, however.

"Hey, I know a werewolf! Wonder if we're talking about the same one!" quipped Remus from behind them, and it took all of Harry's self-restraint not to start in surprise.

The trio turned around to look at their professor, who was standing behind them and grinning mischievously. He hand his hands clasped behind his back and was pivoting back and forth on his feet merrily.

"Eves dropping again, Moony?" Harry asked, smiling up at Remus cheekily.

"I'm a teacher. It's my prerogative!" Remus quipped. "Anyway, the Headmaster wants to see you in his office after breakfast, Harry. And before you ask, I don't know why! He was very secretive about the whole thing."

"Well I'm finished with breakfast now," said Harry, abandoning his half-finished breakfast and standing up. He pointedly ignored Ron's eye-roll.

"I'll walk you then," said Remus, nodding kindly at Ron and Hermione, before turning around and walking towards the doors to the Entrance Hall. He had a certain kind of spring in his step, and as Harry followed along next to him, he couldn't help but smile about it.

It was good to see Remus happy again. For the first few weeks after he and Sirius stopped seeing each other, Remus had lost his spark. Harry figured that he'd handled it well, though; probably because he had been half-expecting Sirius to cheat on him for a second time. Harry thought that, deep down, Remus had known all along that he and Sirius were going to have problems until Sirius came to terms with life outside of Azkaban. There was no other explanation as to how Remus, a sweet and gentle man who put his whole heart into relationships, could have gotten out of that one without getting sick from heart break.

"What's got you in such a perky mood?" asked Harry, and Remus bounced jovially on the balls of his feet, humming cheerily.

"Oh, I don't know! It just seems like a lovely day is all. I adore summer!" said Remus, and Harry couldn't help but grin. The man _looked _like summer, what with his eyes like warm honey, yellow hair, sun kissed skin, and glowing smile.

"You look great when you smile, Remus. It lights up the whole room," said Harry, and was quite pleased when Remus blushed. He felt a twinge of guilt because of Sirius, but tried desperately to squash it. Sirius was off enjoying Billy Weasley, after all. Harry wasn't quite sure that he forgave his godfather yet. He understood that Sirius was messed up from Azkaban, but to hurt Remus the way he had was just… wrong.

"Oh, spare me," said Snape's voice from around the corner they were about to turn, and both Harry and Remus jumped in surprise.

"Severus! You gave us a fright," said Remus, blushing more than he was in the first place.

"Yeah, Snape. Maybe you shouldn't lurk in dark passages like that. People will mistake you for a vampire or something," Harry chirped, smiling widely. Remus stood on his foot forcefully to shut him up, and Snape raised one elegant black eyebrow.

"Indeed. In the future, Potter, kindly keep your irritating school-boy crush to yourself," said Snape before turning on his heel and gliding down the hallway. Harry thought it really was quite impressive that he got his robes to billow out behind him like that every time.

"Snape is such a prat," Harry said, huffing and continuing his walk to the Headmaster's office. He ducked his head slightly to hide his embarrassment about Snape mentioning his crush on Remus. Was he that transparent?

"_Professor_ Snape, Harry. You should really watch what you say about your professors," said Remus, striding along beside Harry. Harry looked up at his companion, pretending to pout.

"Like he ever watches what he says about _me._ He only gets as good as he gives," said Harry, and Remus chuckled slightly.

"Yes, well, I suppose Severus was never particularly subtle," he said, brushing his tawny hair out of his eyes in that manner which Harry was really becoming quite fond of.

They had reached the statue guarding the Headmaster's quarters, and Remus uttered the password (Peppermint Humbugs), before they ascended the moving spiral staircase. Harry nudged Remus playfully, and Remus nudged him back. They were still grinning when they entered the office, but their faces fell almost instantly when they saw who was inside.

"Sirius," Harry said, and just like that his life was turned upside down once more.


	7. Chapter 7

"Harry, it's so good to see you!" Sirius exclaimed once the door to Dumbledore's office had closed.

Harry wasn't quite sure that he'd forgiven his godfather yet, but he still loved him and had missed Sirius more than he realized. He couldn't help his heart fluttering with excitement upon seeing his wayward godfather, and when Sirius crossed the room and enveloped Harry in a strong, warm hug, Harry returned it. Whatever problems Sirius was facing, Harry just simply couldn't stay angry with him. They were family, after all.

"I missed you, kid," said Sirius when they broke apart, clapping Harry firmly on the shoulder and not quite meeting his eyes.

"I missed you too, Padfoot," said Harry, smiling inwardly at Sirius' awkwardness. They'd only hugged a handful of times since meeting each other, and Harry got the feeling that Sirius still felt a little strange about the displays of affection.

"I'll just, uh, be going now…" Remus said from behind them, and Harry didn't even have a chance to turn around before the werewolf was out the door. Harry knew that Remus didn't like confrontation, and wasn't totally surprised that he's left the room before there could be one.

Harry noticed that Dumbledore had left the room as well, and on his desk were a couple pitchers of pumpkin juice, some sweets, and a few trays of sandwiches. Apparently, Harry was excused from classes that day.

"I guess Remus is still upset with me, huh?" Sirius asked.

Harry expected to feel anger with his godfather when the Bill Weasley incident was mentioned at last, but it didn't come. All he felt was pity and sadness. Whilst Sirius was away and he was left alone with a very sad Remus, it was easy to pretend that Sirius had done wrong on purpose; however, now that Harry was with his godfather again it was harder to see things as black and white. Sirius was one of the most kindhearted people Harry had ever met. He would never intentionally hurt someone he loved as much as Remus. Hermione had to be right. Sirius was just still messed up from Azkaban. Not that there was any real excuse for his actions, but Harry knew what it was like to act without thinking.

"That's probably an understatement, Pads," said Harry, trying valiantly to keep any reprimand out of his voice.

Sirius looked at Harry in mild surprise. "Remus told you then?"

Harry blushed, but held his head high. "Well, who else did he have to talk to? Remus and I have become pretty good friends this school year. I was there for him."

Sirius considered him for a moment. "Well, you don't seem to be angry with me. I would be angry with me…"

"I was pretty cross when I first found out, but I've calmed down since then. I won't say that I agree with what you've done, Sirius, but I know that you'd never do it on purpose. For whatever insane reason, you weren't thinking. I think Remus understands that, too," said Harry, and Sirius smiled halfheartedly at him.

"Why don't we sit down, Harry? I want to know all that you've been up to," said Sirius, and Harry turned pale. What had he been up to? Oh, nothing much. Just falling for the man Sirius was in love with was all. No big deal, really.

"So, tell me about your classes," Sirius said through a mouthful of sandwich. He'd already devoured an entire tray, and the tray he was working on now was half finished.

"They're alright. I'm doing really well in Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark arts, of course. I dropped Divination the first chance I got," said Harry and smiled when Sirius snorted derisively.

"How about Potions? Is Snivellus treating you alright?" asked Sirius, and Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes at the nickname. Honestly, how old was his godfather?

"I'm actually doing alright in Potions now," said Harry truthfully. Ever since he had started sitting up front, his Potions marks had been improving steadily.

"Good, because if that idiot had been mistreating you still…" Sirius said, letting the threat hang. He stuffed another sandwich in his mouth and said, "And how about romance?"

Harry, graceful as ever, coughed up pumpkin juice all over his front. He cleaned it up with a wave of his wand, his face glowing with embarrassment.

"Oh, I see. There's someone new, eh?" Sirius asked, grinning like a madman.

"No. No one. Honest," said Harry quickly, feeling his face growing ever hotter.

"Right. Like I believe that one. Come on, Harry! You can tell me. I'm your godfather, for Merlin's sake!" Sirius exclaimed, pouting slightly.

"There's nothing to tell!" Harry snapped, and felt contrite immediately. He was the guilty one, not Sirius. He shouldn't be getting cross with him so easily.

"Is it Ron? Or Hermione? I always did think you'd end up with one of them," said Sirius, then upon seeing Harry's stricken expression, "Is it _both_?"

"Ugh! No! That's disgusting, Sirius!" Harry said, grinning.

"No? Another one of your classmates? How about that little prat Malfoy? Now, he's a looker. He does have that rather unfortunate character flaw of being a Slytherin, though. Most distressing. A highly incurable disease, I've heard," said Sirius, and Harry could tell that he was truly enjoying himself. Oh, well, no harm in humoring Sirius in his game.

"I don't fancy ferrets, thanks," said Harry.

"How about that Cho Chang girl? She's quite pretty," said Sirius, and Harry blushed at the memory of asking Cho to the Yule Ball in fourth year. He hadn't been able to look at her since.

"No, I suppose you've already tried going down that street. How about Seamus Finnegan? I caught a glimpse of him when I was breaking into your rooms in your third year. He's a handsome bloke," said Sirius, and Harry snorted. Yeah, he was a handsome bloke alright. Not to mention head-over-heels for Dean Thomas.

"None of them? Maybe it's not a student then, hmmm? One of your professors?" Sirius asked slyly, and Harry couldn't stop the raging hot blush from covering his skin from head to toe. Sirius' eyes widened comically and he exclaimed, "It _is_! I was just teasing, but really! Oh, Merlin! Which one is it?"

Harry groaned. This was _not _how he'd choose for Sirius to find out! He had to stop him before he said Remus' name. Harry knew that if the werewolf was mentioned, his face would give him away instantly.

"Oh, please tell me it's not Snape? Harry, I love you, but I'd seriously have to re-think our relationship if you had a thing for that greasy git!" Sirius said, and Harry felt that he was probably only half-joking.

When Harry didn't answer, Sirius kept on guessing.

"Flitwick? No, too short… Sinestra! She's a looker, eh?" he said, laughing between guesses.

It was only a matter of time before Sirius came to the inevitable conclusion, and Harry still couldn't think of a way to distract him. So he sat in his chair, white faced, gripping the arms as if his life depended on it.

"Vector? Nah, too snooty. Hmmm… well it couldn't be…" Harry could see the pieces of the puzzle getting put into place in Sirius' mind as he checked off the unlikelies.

At the very last instant, when Harry could see that Sirius was seconds from coming to the correct conclusion, an idea for a distraction came to him. Grinning mischievously, he jumped up and changed seamlessly into Howler.

It worked. The second Sirius saw the great husky sitting in front of him, all thoughts of Harry's love life fled his mind to be replaced by unrestrained glee. Sirius jumped out of his chair in excitement, and whooped loudly, punching a fist into the air.

"Harry! Why didn't you tell me sooner! I can't believe you managed it already! Look at you, you look amazing! I knew you'd be like me," said Sirius, and Harry wagged his tail proudly.

"Did Ron and Hermione manage it, too?" Sirius asked excitedly and Harry barked in confirmation.

"Wicked! The new marauders, who would of thought?"

Harry and Sirius spent the rest of the afternoon talking about being an animagus, and exchanging their stories of rule breaking. Sirius, of course, had much more to tell than Harry, but that suited the younger man just fine. He was only too happy that he'd avoided the disaster of Sirius figuring out how he felt about Remus for the time being.

When the afternoon rolled into evening, Dumbledore came back into the room. Harry hadn't thought about the man all day, but now wondered where he'd gone whilst they'd been occupying his office for so many hours.

"Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but I need to borrow Sirius, and I believe Harry has to be getting down to dinner," said the old man, and Harry sighed with partial sadness and partial relief. He wanted to spend more time with his godfather, but keeping him distracted had been getting more and more difficult as they ran out of stories to tell.

"You are, of course, more than welcome to come see him in your free time, Harry. I do believe he will be staying in the castle for some time yet," said Dumbledore as Harry got up to leave the room.

"Thank you, Headmaster. It means a lot to me," said Harry, and Dumbledore smiled knowingly.

"Of course, dear boy. Run along to dinner now. I believe your friends are missing you," he said, and Harry gave Sirius one last hug and bid both of the men goodnight before he left the room and made his way to the Great Hall.

He was almost to his destination when, seemingly with a mind of their own, his feet began to take him down a different path. He wasn't surprised in the least when he ended up at Remus' quarters. He'd been thinking about the man all day, wondering where he'd gone and how he was doing.

Harry knocked lightly on the large oak door, hoping Remus was still awake. As luck would have it, he was. The door opened a tiny crack, and then further once Remus realized who was standing in the hallway. Remus didn't look as horrible as Harry thought he would, but he still looked impossibly sad.

"Hello, Harry. Come on in," he said, opening the door all the way and stepping back so Harry could enter. He closed the door behind Harry and immediately went to his little kitchen area. He started bustling around like Molly Weasley, getting a tea pot filled and pulling out mugs, cream, sugar, and biscuits.

"Tea, Harry?" He asked at last, once he'd already gotten everything all laid out. He began re-arranging the cups on the little table, first placing the largest closer to him, then the smaller, then both equally close. He was avoiding looking Harry in the eyes.

Harry boldly crossed the room, entered the kitchen, and stood beside Remus. When the man still didn't look up, Harry placed a gentle hand on Remus' warm forearm and said, "Remus. Everything is going to be okay."

Remus took a deep, shuddering breath, and finally, _finally, _looked at Harry. The sadness in his honey eyes nearly broke Harry's heart. He'd thought Remus had been doing better, but seeing Sirius again must have brought all of those awful feelings to the surface. It saddened Harry to see such a wonderful, vibrant man so melancholy. There was something broken in Remus, and Harry wished desperately that he knew how to fix it.

"Remus, I – " Harry began, but was cut short when he felt Remus' hand slide on top of his. His heart rate skyrocketed, and his eyes widened. It was such an intimate gesture, and it took Harry aback at the suddenness of it. They stood like that for a while, Harry's hand atop Remus' forearm, and Remus' hand atop Harry's. The warm glow of the fire and candles flickered off their faces, and something between them changed.

"Remus," said Harry finally, his heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird.

Remus didn't say anything. Instead, he leaned in towards Harry, asking permission with his eyes. Harry's breath hitched, but he leaned into Remus, and when their lips met Harry thought his heart was going to burst out of his chest. Remus' lips were full and warm, and his stubble scratched Harry's chin in the most pleasant way. He could smell that scent that was so obviously Remus, and his head grew foggy with bliss.

Harry expected that the kiss wouldn't last very long, so he wasn't surprised when Remus pulled back and looked at him. He was entirely shocked, however, when he felt Remus' large hand grasp his neck and his other arm snake around his waist and pull him bodily against Remus' larger frame. Their lips met harder this time, and the heat between them was intense. Harry felt himself being pushed against the counter and he groaned despite himself, bringing his arms up around Remus' neck and pushing their bodies closer. Their hips didn't quite line up, and Harry could feel Remus' hip bone digging into his, and their teeth hit a few times, but the kiss was still the most incredible thing Harry had ever experienced. He could barely form a single coherent thought because he was so overwhelmed with Remus. Remus was all around him, pressing against his body, his tongue darting insistently into Harry's mouth, his arm around his waist, his hand on his neck, and his scent wrapping around them both.

Still, after a few minutes of bliss, a rather inevitable thought _did _drift into his mind's eye. It was only a single word, but it served to bring reality crashing down around his ears.

_Sirius._

No matter what he felt for Remus, or what Sirius had done, Harry knew that Sirius was still in love with Remus. And it just wasn't right of him to let himself be with someone his godfather had been with or had feelings for. As blissful as he felt, he couldn't let it continue. It wasn't right, and it wasn't fair.

So, rather reluctantly, he removed his arms from around Remus' neck and placed his hands on Remus' shoulders. Gently, he pushed the older man back and pulled their lips apart. They were both breathing heavily, and Remus' eyes were glazed over with arousal. The sight made Harry's breath hitch again, and he had to look away before he started the frenzied kiss all over.

"Harry, I'm sorry. I just – " Remus started, but Harry cut him off.

"Don't be sorry, Remus. I've wanted that for months. But we can't do this. It just isn't right," said Harry reluctantly, and Remus sighed.

"I've known how you felt for a while now. I'll be honest; I've been developing feelings for you for quite some time. Probably before I even realized. I've just been so confused because of Sirius, and it was difficult for me to come to terms with how I felt about you," said Remus, and Harry felt a little perk of happiness.

"I wish it could be different, Remus. But we can't be together. It isn't right. I'm too close to Sirius, and no matter what he's done, he still loves you," Harry said, and Remus groaned in frustration.

"I won't say that I'm entirely over Sirius, but he chose his path. And my feelings for you are strong. I'm happy when I'm around you. You're smart and brave, and you always seem to understand how I'm feeling. You listen to me talk, even though I'm sure you're bored out of your skull half the time. It's easy to be around you, Harry," said Remus.

"If Ron had done to Hermione what Sirius did to you, and I started dating Hermione, what would you say to me?" Harry asked, and he knew Remus saw his point before he answered just by the pained expression on his face.

"I'd tell you not to be an idiot, and that there were plenty of other young ladies to choose from. I'd tell you that even though Ron had hurt Hermione, that didn't make it right for you to hurt him in return," said Remus gently, and Harry smiled a little sadly.

"Remus?" Sirius had appeared in Remus' doorway, and before Harry and Remus could even think to jump apart his eyes landed on the two of them. Harry was still pressed against the counter, Remus' arm wrapped tightly around his waist. With their kiss-swollen lips and flushed cheeks, it was easy to tell what had been going on.

"Sirius! It isn't what it looks like!" Harry gasped, jumping hastily out of Remus' arms and knocking his back on the hard counter in the process.

"Harry, it's okay," said Sirius, sighing but smiling a small smile nonetheless.

"No, it's not. It's not right of me at all to be in this position. I know how you feel about Remus and I promise that we weren't going to –" Sirius held up a hand for silence, and Harry cut off his sentence instantly. Harry was beginning to panic, worried beyond belief that he had hurt Sirius.

"No, really. It's okay. I was coming to talk to Remus, actually. First to apologize for what an idiot I'd been." Sirius was looking at Remus now, and Harry glimpsed a shyness that he hadn't seen in Remus before making its way to the surface. "And then to tell him about how you felt for him… I'm not blind. I knew it had to be Remus when I figured out it was a teacher you had feelings for."

"Sirius, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to," said Harry, bowing his head.

"Hey, kid. Don't worry about it. I know I should be upset, but the funny thing is… I'm not," said Sirius, and Remus barely concealed his gasp. Harry was sure that Sirius' comment had hurt Remus, and was a little miffed about Sirius' callousness.

"Not that I don't love Remus. I've always loved Remus, ever since we were kids… But I can't make him happy," Sirius continued, then turned his attention to Remus. "Remus, I love you. But I can't be who you need me to be right now. I'm not okay. I've fallen behind in my years in Azkaban, and there's just something… off with me. I need time. Time that I can't ask you to give me. You deserve to be happy now, Remus. And I know that Harry can do that for you. I _want _Harry to do that for you."

Sirius crossed the room and took Remus' hand, and Remus turned his face away shyly. The whole thing was breaking Harry's heart. When Sirius took one of his hands as well, he had to furiously blink away the sting of tears in his eyes.

Up close, Harry could see the stubble on Sirius' cheeks, and the circles under his eyes. Times were hard for his godfather right then. This decision hurt Sirius more than he would ever let on.

"You guys mean everything to me. You're my family, and all I want is for the two of you to be happy. If that means you need to be happy _together_, then you have my blessing." Sirius smiled, and his dark brown eyes lit up slightly in that way which reminded Harry of the handsome, carefree man in his parent's wedding picture.

"Sirius, I – " Remus started, but he couldn't seem to finish his sentence.

"Remus, this guy has more love and spirit and happiness in him than both of us put together. I've hurt you, and I think Harry can fix what I've broken. You should take a chance on him," Sirius said.

Without further comment, Sirius gave both Remus and Harry's hands a squeeze, dropped them, and walked to the door. As he opened the door he stopped and turned his head slightly.

"Think about it, Remus," he said, before disillusioning himself, stepping out into the hall, and closing the door behind him.

Remus and Harry stood staring at the door for an indeterminate amount of time. Neither one knew what to say to the other. Both were so wrapped up trying to figure out their own thoughts that they couldn't pick a single one out to voice it.

"Harry… I need some time, okay?" Remus said finally, and Harry's heart sunk.

"Yeah. I understand, Moony," said Harry, not glancing at Remus. He started to walk to the door, but was stopped short by a hand grasping his tightly.

"Harry, I'm just confused right now. This is a lot to take in, you know? I need to think, and to heal. Just give me awhile, alright?" said Remus, and Harry nodded, still without looking in Remus' direction.

"I understand, Remus," he said, squeezing the hand still grasping his.

Remus dropped his hand and sighed, and Harry made his way out of the room.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Mr. Thomas, perhaps you can manage to keep your lips to yourself long enough to make it back to your dorm?"

Severus was on his nightly patrol of the Astronomy tower; it really was the best place to catch students out after curfew, and he rarely missed an opportunity to deduct house points. He needn't worry about catching any of _his _students, either. He'd subtly hinted at more appropriate places to hide at night during his usual "Welcome to Slytherin House" speech, and was quite pleased when not one of his students lost points for being out past curfew the entire year.

"Yes, Professor Snape," stammered Thomas, and he grabbed Mr. Finnegan's hand and dragged him bodily from the room.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor from the both of you as well," Severus snapped as the duo fled.

Not a bad night, so far: forty points from Gryffindor, twenty from Ravenclaw, and forty from Hufflepuff, all in the span of an hour. Severus figured they would have learned by now, but supposed that such reasoning was beyond the simpletons of the other houses.

He was to the very top of the tower when he heard a sigh from above. Some idiot had climbed through the rafters to the old attic room at the top. That place was a crumbling wreck, at best. If Severus had to clean up the mess when the imbecile fell and splattered all over the ground, heads would roll.

He climbed stealthily and quickly to the top, his dexterity speaking wonders about his years as a spy. He wanted to sneak up on the fool, so he could see who it was and think up a suitable punishment before he acted.

Crouching behind the highest rafter, he peeked out at the solitary figure sitting at the edge of the crumbling balcony. Of _course _it was Potter. Who else could it be? The brat lived to annoy him.

Potter was sitting with his legs dangling over the side of the balcony, and his arms folded on the low stone railing. His head rested atop his arms, and he was staring out at the moonlit lake. He looked… sad, Severus decided. He was deep in thought, and wherever his thoughts were leading him couldn't be a happy place.

Severus wasn't sure why he didn't jump up immediately and punish the boy, but he didn't. He sat and watched him for a while, contemplatively. The boy had shed his horrid glasses, and the moonlight reflected in his emerald eyes. It shined off of his messy black hair, and made his already pale skin look luminescent and creamy. His lips were kiss swollen, and for some reason the thought made Severus' fists clench.

As he watched, a large snowy owl flew up and perched next to the boy's face. Potter looked up and stroked her head gently, still not smiling.

"Hey, Headwig. How'd you find me all the way up here?" the boy asked, and the owl cocked her head to the side and hooted serenely.

"I don't know what to do, girl. The way I feel about him… I don't know what to do. Sirius gave us his blessing, but I don't know if that makes it right. And Remus is obviously still in love with Sirius… But I know he likes me too! I can't believe he kissed me, Headwig. It was incredible," Potter said to the owl, and Severus nearly groaned. Lupin! He should have guessed. He'd teased the boy about it, but he hadn't known it was true that the brat had feelings for the werewolf.

"I guess I'll just have to give him space for a while," Potter said, and Severus realized he was grinding his teeth. What was _wrong _with him? One could almost think that Severus was _jealous. _But that was ludicrous. He was probably just irritated with the boy for having the audacity to be out so late after curfew.

Well, only one thing to do to assuage his righteous indignation.

"Well, well, well, Mr. Potter. Being out after curfew wasn't a big enough rule for you to break, was it? You had to come up to the forbidden section of the astronomy tower and risk your neck, too. You really do have an appalling lack of regard for the rules." Severus smirked in satisfaction when Potter nearly jumped out of his skin as Severus came into view.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor," said Severus. Then, as an afterthought, "And detention with me every Sunday until the end of the year."

It was mid-May, so that meant detention every Sunday for the next six weeks. If it so happened to be on the days when Potter had his so-called "secret lessons" with the werewolf, then so be it.

"Yes, Professor Snape," said Potter quietly, and Severus nearly gasped in shock. It was entirely unlike the boy to give in without so much as a nasty look.

"Yes, well… ahem… come with me then, Potter. You need to get to your dorm," said Severus, completely thrown off of his game because of Potter's submission.

"Yes, Professor Snape," said the boy again, and Severus decided that he much preferred the fiery youth to the submissive one.

_Not that I'd ever say _that _out loud. _He thought as he led the boy out of the tower.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks again to my beta, who has totally kicked this story into shape! And thanks to everyone who reviewed! Every time I get a review, I get re-motivated haha. It helps with writer's block, you know!**

On the last day of school, while all of his classmates were lining up to make their way to the Hogwarts Express, Harry found himself sitting in Dumbledore's office with Remus, Snape, and Dumbledore. He was worried about missing the train, and impatiently tapped his foot as he waited for the men to finish their tea. Why he had to be included in their little end of the year tea party, he had no idea. He just wanted get on the train and spend some time with Ron and Hermione before he was trapped in Snape's dreary manor all summer.

"Cease your fidgeting at once, Potter. You're giving me a migraine." Snape was glaring at Harry from the armchair directly in front of him, and Harry did his best not to stick out his tongue.

"I'm just worried that I'm going to miss the train, Professor," Harry grumbled, crossing his arms defiantly.

"The train? Why in the world would you be getting on the train?" Snape stared at him with his usual 'You're a moron, Potter' look, and Harry fought back an embarrassed flush. "You're staying with me this summer. Did you expect me to take the train with you? Or to waste my time going to pick you up from Kings Cross?"

Harry deflated instantly. "Oh."

"Sorry, Harry, I suppose we should have told you in advance," Remus cut in quickly before Snape could shoot another insult at Harry. "The professors all floo home after the school year."

That made a lot of sense to Harry, though he wished he would have known that beforehand so he could have said goodbye to Ron and Hermione.

Seeing his slightly dismayed look, Remus reached over and patted Harry awkwardly on the arm. They hadn't spoken outside of class since their talk with Sirius, and Harry feared that their relationship would be fairly strained for a while because of it. Remus seemed to feel extremely awkward around Harry, and Harry tended to get a little mopey around Remus.

"Well, gentlemen. I think it's time we sent you all home. Harry needs to get settled in, after all, and I'm sure you're all eager to start your vacation," Dumbledore chirped merrily as he stood, ever chipper in the face of others' discomfort. Harry wondered briefly, not for the first time, whether or not Dumbledore was a bit mad.

"Professor, what about my trunk? And Hedwig? I left them in the dorm because I thought I'd be taking the train," said Harry.

"Not to worry, dear boy, not to worry. Your things are already safe in your rooms at Snape Manor," said Dumbledore, pivoting jovially on the balls of his feet. His magenta robes swished back and forth around him as his hopped, and his hat bounced atop his flying white hair. _Yes, _Harry thought, _quite mad._

"You'll go first, Harry. Just say 'Westwyth Park Parlor', and you'll find yourself in the right place," said Remus reassuringly, and Harry stepped up to take a handful of floo powder from the pot by the fire.

"What's Westwyth Park?" Harry asked, pausing as the thought struck him.

"That's the name of Severus' house," said Remus.

"Why have you been calling it 'Snape Manor' then?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Because Dumbledore thinks it's funny to call it that. It's really more of a castle than a manor, anyway," said Remus. When he leant down to whisper conspiratorially in Harry's ear, Harry had to suppress a shudder. "I personally think that he just likes to wind Severus up a bit," Remus said, low enough so that only Harry could hear.

"Did you _really _think that I'd name a castle after myself, Potter?" Snape asked dubiously.

Harry chose not to answer. He really _did _think that Snape was egotistical enough to name a castle after himself, but decided that saying so would get him a pretty bad start to his summer holiday.

Instead, Harry tossed the powder into the fire, took a deep breath, stepped into the green flames and shouted his destination. He closed his eyes immediately after the spinning started, tucking in his elbows so he didn't hit them on the sides of the fireplace. When the flames spat him out, he tumbled unceremoniously onto the floor, coughing and spluttering despite having held his breath the whole time.

_There are some things that I will _never _get used to when it comes to magic, _he thought as he stood and dusted himself off. As he was looking down at his pants, he noticed he was standing on a rather handsome blue themed Persian rug. It was obviously extremely expensive, and he hastily jumped off of it to avoid covering it in more soot.

He landed on a light Mahogany wood floor, and hastily kicked off his shoes so he didn't scuff the lightly gleaming finish.

Harry knew he was going to a manor house, but when he looked up and around the room, he still couldn't help but be shocked. He wasn't sure why, but he had expected Snape's home to be cold, and dark themed. Instead, he found himself in a large, warm toned room. There was a white piano by one of the tall windows, light wallpaper with an intricate golden leaf design, which was broken up here and there by tall bookshelves. There was an old chandelier which was lit by candles, and light, comfortable looking chairs surrounding the Persian rug, all facing a large fireplace, out of which Remus Lupin was calmly stepping.

Remus, Harry noticed, didn't seem to mind getting soot on the lush rug. When he saw Harry's awed expression, he chuckled. "I had the exact same look on my face when I first saw this room. You were afraid you'd ruin the rug, weren't you?"

Harry grinned sheepishly. "A bit," he said.

"Don't worry about it. I know it looks nice, but this rug is old and out of date anyway. That's why it's in front of the fireplace," Remus said, and Harry suddenly felt very silly standing around in his socks.

"I heard that," said Snape as he stepped gracefully out of the fireplace. He was somehow, frustratingly, free of soot.

"I'll just bet you did," Harry said, adamantly refraining from muttering 'bat' at the end of his sentence. He and Snape hadn't been fighting as much since they'd had all those detentions together. They were, by no means, friends; however, between focusing on whatever potion Harry was catching up on and grading papers, there hadn't been much time or inclination for animosity between them. Still, there was just something about Severus Snape that ruffled Harry's feathers.

"This way," Snape said without replying. He walked through the large mahogany door, and Harry was shocked when he took in the new room.

More mahogany floor greeted him, covered in places by more beautiful rugs. It looked like some sort of entryway, judging by the size of the doors at the far end of the room. The walls were an eggshell white, decorated tastefully with what had to be very old tapestries. There were large white Greek pillars here and there throughout the large room, and a grand staircase at the end. There were large doors leading to other rooms, and Harry could see just a peep of a sitting room on the other side of the staircase.

Harry was opening his mouth to comment when a high pitched squeal echoed throughout the room, and a blur of pink and white whizzed past him and launched itself at Professor Snape. He was too shocked to take out his wand, and Snape didn't look too frightened. In fact, he was _hugging _the little pink thing.

"Uncle Severus! I missed you so much! Did you bring me anything from Hogwarts?" the thing, a little girl, chattered as she squeezed Snape, and Snape's expression was softer than Harry had ever seen it. He looked… Normal.

"I've missed you too, Felixia," Snape said, and Harry nearly rubbed his ears to make sure he wasn't hearing things.

When Snape put the little girl down, Harry took a good look at her. She was slim and her skin was creamy white, with pink lips, rosy cheeks, large green eyes, and curly black hair done up in two pigtails on the sides of her head. The pink bows in her hair matched her frilly pink and white dress. She was wearing white stockings and shiny buckled black shoes. She was probably the cutest little thing Harry had ever seen.

"Is that him, Uncle Severus?" she asked in a lilting, flowery voice.

"Yes, Felixia, that is Harry Potter: the bane of my existence," Snape said, and Felixia's eyes narrowed.

"_What _is he wearing?" Felixia asked, and Harry blushed down to his toes. He fingered the hole in the sleeve of his hand-me-down maroon jumper self-consciously.

"Now, Felix. You know how you're supposed to greet guests," Snape chided. Harry didn't know what to make of this soothing, gentle Snape. It was so drastically different from the Snape that he knew, they were like different people.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Sev," she said, then she turned to Harry and curtsied daintily, bowing her head to the side. "I'm pleased to meet you, sir. My name is Felixia."

When she held her hand out facing down, Harry was bewildered. Did she want him to shake it? He looked at a grinning Remus, who kissed the back of his own hand, and it dawned on him. He took Felixia's tiny little hand, bowed, and placed a light kiss on the back.

"I'm very pleased to meet you too, Miss Felixia," he said as politely as he'd ever spoken in his life.

When he let go of her hand, Felixia looked around and finally seemed to catch a glimpse of Remus. Her eyes lit up like a lumos spell, and she launched herself at him as she had Snape. Harry caught Snape rolling his eyes out of the corner of his and hid a grin.

"Remy! You're back, too!" Felixia chirped, her face buried in Remus' chest.

"Of course, Flower. I told you I would be," said Remus, and Harry knew instantly that this little thing had both Remus and Snape wrapped around her dainty finger.

It was a wonder to Harry. Remus, he could understand. The man had such a soft heart, and Felixia was an adorable little girl. But Snape? Affection wasn't a word he thought he'd ever associate with Severus Snape. Still, as he watched his Potions Master take the little girl's hand and look down at her, it was the only word he could find to describe the look in his eyes.

"It's strange, isn't it?" Remus was at his shoulder now, watching Snape and Felixia as Snape brought out an array of gifts and sweets for the child.

"It doesn't really fit my image of him," said Harry, and Remus chuckled again.

"That's what I thought, too. But once you see them together for a while, it somehow fits. I've only ever seen Severus act the way he does with that little girl once," said Remus.

"Once? When was that?" Harry asked, curious. Remus smiled apologetically, and Harry knew he wouldn't get an answer out of him.

"So, she's his niece?" Harry asked, changing the subject rather than put Remus on the spot. This was the most they'd spoken in weeks, and he didn't want to ruin it.

"Felixia will be seven in about two weeks. She comes to stay with Severus every summer. Her parents really are lovey people. They travel during the summer, and she always opts to stay here," said Remus, as Felixia giggled in delight over the singing candy mouse Snape was showing her.

"I didn't know Snape had siblings," Harry said thoughtfully. As far as he'd heard, Snape was an only child. He'd always assumed he'd had a bad upbringing, too, because of his attitude.

"No one did. It's not really my business to tell, but I can give you the basics. Severus grew up here. His father wasn't a very nice person, but his mother was lovely. When Severus was sixteen, his brother showed up on their doorstep. Apparently, their mother had given him to her sister when she'd had him five years before Severus was born, because she was afraid she was too young to be a mother. Maximus, that's his brother's name, chased their father off after that. He and Severus have been close ever since." When Remus had finished his story, Harry felt a little awkward. He'd never known anything so personal about Professor Snape, and felt a little wrong for hearing it.

"Potter, Lupin will show you to your rooms," Snape called from where he was standing with Felixia. "Dinner will be served every night at seven. Be in the dining room or starve. Your choice."

Harry rolled his eyes at the Potions Master's back.

"Come on, Harry. Your room is just down the hall from mine," Remus said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry shivered pleasantly. It may have been weeks since they'd spoken, but he still couldn't ignore his feelings for Remus.

Remus led him up the staircase and down one hall. At the end of the hall, they turned into another hall which was lined on both sides by doors of all different sizes and colors. Harry felt he rather fancied the odd mix of Hogwarts' elegance and Weasley magic he could see in the layout and decorations. It fit, somehow, with his view of the wizarding world. It was something elegant and charming, yet altogether chaotic and wild and beautiful.

"This is my room," said Remus, gesturing to a door on his right which was made out of maple. They continued down the hall, and were all the way at the very end when Remus stopped.

"This is your room, Harry," said Remus, already reaching out to the large brass handle and pushing open the tall cherry wood door.

The room was huge, with a large bed in the center, a red chaise lounge lover's sear at the foot of the bed, two comfortable looking armchairs in front of a huge fireplace, a large wardrobe (which Harry could never hope to fill), and another large set of doors leading off into what looked like a rather spacious bathroom. The color scheme was predominantly Gryffindor, which Harry assumed meant Remus had decorated the room himself.

"Quite massive, isn't it?" Remus asked, sounding as if, like Harry, he was a bit used to smaller and less luxurious quarters.

More fascinating than the room, though, was the fact that Remus was suddenly very, very close.

"Quite," said Harry, all interest in the room gone in the presence of the warm breath ghosting over his neck. Summoning some Gryffindor courage, he licked his lips and turned to face his Defense Professor.

"Harry," said Remus, his eyes darting down to Harry's lips.

Harry didn't say anything. Instead, he took the last few paces forward and stepped gently into Remus' arms. When their lips met, Harry sighed in contentment. This was good. This was comfort and safety and all of the things that Remus meant to Harry. Remus groaned, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist and deepening the kiss insistently. Suddenly, it was all tongues and heat and pressure and, oh Merlin, that heat. Remus was backing them up, and Harry was too dizzy to realize why until the backs of his legs hit the mattress and he went tumbling backwards, Remus falling along on top of him.

Harry was breathing heavily, and he knew Remus was too, and how could so much heat come off of one man? It was intoxicating. When Remus broke off to look Harry in the eyes, Harry felt something in his groin stir at the feral yellow that was looking down at him instead of the honey brown. Remus' chest was rising and falling rapidly, and he seemed to be having a battle with himself internally.

"Remus," said Harry, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of Remus' eyes.

Remus looked down at him and his expression softened and his eyes melted back to warm honey. Remus was still panting, but Harry could tell by the look on his flushed face that he would allow things to go no further. When the werewolf reached out and touched Harry's cheek, Harry leaned into the touch like a cat searching for warmth and Remus smiled indulgently.

"I'm sorry I've left you waiting for so long, Harry. There were things I needed to come to terms with, things I needed to think about." It wasn't what Harry had expected to hear, but it made his heart beat speed up and set butterflies ablaze in his stomach.

"And what did you decide?" Harry asked, uncertainty lacing his tone despite what had just happened between them.

"I want to give this," Remus motioned at the, admittedly small, space between them, "a chance. I meant what I said before, Harry. There's just something about you… I think things could work between us."

Harry let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and Remus grinned. "Then kiss me again," he said, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Remus' hair. He was rewarded by a low groan and a flash of gold in Remus' eyes, but no kiss.

"Pardon me for being cliché, Harry, but I think we should take things slowly. There's something about the nature of werewolves that you need to understand," said Remus, sliding off of Harry and sitting beside him on the bed. Harry didn't sit up. Instead, he rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand. His messy hair slid endearingly into his eyes and Remus reached out reflexively to brush it away.

"I know I told you that I sometimes can't control my anger. You saw that my eyes turned into those of a wolf. Well, there are other emotions and… impulses that it is quite difficult for me to control as well. Lust, for instance," said Remus, and Harry spluttered. He couldn't help it.

"I need to keep a tight control on myself until I know that whatever we do won't leave you hurt." Remus looked away then, twisting the hem of his robe in a rather uncharacteristic display of discomfort. Harry reached out and put a hand on Remus' stilling his fidgeting hands.

"I understand, Remus," he said simply, and Remus smiled in gratitude.

The next day was the day of the full moon, and Remus disappeared early in the morning to go wherever it was he was going to change. With the Wolfsbane potion Remus was docile as a wolf, but he still felt it was a good idea to be away from people when the change happened.

So it was that he found himself wandering through Snape Manor, exploring all of the rooms with open doors. He found himself, eventually, in a library that was so enormous that Harry got the feeling Hermione would faint the second she stepped inside. It was a two story room with bookshelves from floor to vaulted ceiling. The only explanation for how the books stayed in the very top shelves was magic. The shelves were broken up here and there by tall, bright windows which allowed more than enough light to read by. It really was a beautiful room, but, wow, all of those books.

"How in the world does one person acquire _that _many books?" Harry wondered aloud.

"Dark Magic, Potter."

Harry jumped about a foot in the air, his heart leaping up into his throat and lodging itself there. When he whirled around, he came face to face with a rather amused looking Severus Snape. It took Harry a moment to recover from his panic, but when he did he realized that there was something different about the Potions Master.

"You look… um… nice," said Harry, then immediately clapped a hand over his mouth in horror. Had he _really _just said that? To _Snape?_

Said man arched an elegant black eyebrow at him and smirked in a way that was decidedly less malicious than Harry was used to. It was then that Harry took in the rest of Snape's appearance: He was wearing a white shirt with an open neck that dipped down into a V; Resting just inside of the V was a winding silver serpent pendant attached to a thick metal chain. The sleeves of the shirt were long and wide, and it reminded Harry of something from one of those Renaissance romance movies his aunt was so fond of. The shirt was tucked into fitted black trousers, and he was wearing dark dragon hide boots which he had tucked the pant legs into. Most shockingly of all, his hair appeared to be marginally cleaner and was tied back at the nape of his neck by what had to be magical means, as Harry could see no ribbon or thong or anything of the sort.

Clearly, summer was Snape's season.

Realizing he was gawking, Harry quickly looked away and hid his blush.

"What are you doing snooping about in my library?" Snape asked, breaking the silence.

"I was just looking around the house. Remus is gone, and I haven't got anything to do," said Harry, pulling on the too-large and faded red jumper he was wearing.

"Well, you're in luck, Potter. Felixia wants us to go shopping with her," said Snape, being sure to lace his tone with the proper amount of disdain.

"Er, what?" Harry asked, looking up at Snape in surprise. Shopping? Did people like Snape really _shop? _And why, in the name of Merlin, would Snape agree to bring Harry along?

"Shopping, Potter. I assume that you're familiar with the concept. You go out, you try clothes on, you pay for them?" Snape was smirking now, and Harry clenched his teeth in irritation.

"Don't be mean, Uncle Severus!"

Somehow, unbeknownst to Harry, Felixia had been hiding behind Snape the whole time. She stepped out now, hands on her hips and glaring admonishingly up at her uncle. She was wearing a little yellow sundress, once again with matching bows, and yellow sandals.

"I'm just teasing him, Felix. That's how Potter and I interact with each other. I say something mean, he gets angry and says something appropriately idiotic," said Snape, and Felixia huffed.

"I want him to come shopping with us, and he isn't going to if you're being mean to him. Be nice," she said, pointing a tiny finger up at Snape.

Harry was amused to note that instead of reprimanding the little girl for telling him off, Snape merely shrugged with a 'what do you do?' expression on his face and turned his attention back to Harry.

"Well, Potter? Are you coming or not?"

"You can't say no. Who bought you those clothes? They don't suit your hair or your eyes or anything! You need new clothes. You're coming with us. Let's go," said Felixia, as she reached out and grabbed Harry's hand.

Mystified, Harry followed the precocious little thing out of the library, through the house and out the front doors.

It was a short, pleasant walk to the nearest village. Everything was green and lush and fragrant from a recent summer shower, and the whether wasn't as oppressive as Harry would have expected during the summer. Felixia hadn't let go of his hand, and she was skipping along merrily next to him as Snape led the way down the dirt road.

The village they came to was called "Avalon," obviously in a nod to Merlin and King Arthur. It was a wizarding village, and there were children whizzing about on toy broomsticks, and someone was leading a niffler around on a leash. That stopped him short though, something he had learned a few years ago making its way to the surface of his thoughts.

"Sir? Sir, I thought Hogsmeade was the only completely wizarding village in Britain," said Harry, expecting Snape to ridicule him for not understanding.

Instead, Snape turned his head to look and Harry and raised both of his eyebrows quizzically. "Who says we're in Britain?"

"Oh," said Harry, and Snape turned his attention back to the road. Harry realized then that he didn't understand what a mother was chastising her child. "Are we… Are we in Germany?"

"Well spotted, Potter," said Snape without turning around.

Harry didn't know where he had expected Snape's house to be, but _Germany _wouldn't have been on his list. He was coming to realize that there were many things regarding Snape that he had misconceptions about.

The first shop they stopped in was a men's shop, and Felixia immediately went to the wizard working the counter and spoke to him in quick, fluent German like it was nothing. The man came over and took his measurements, writing them down on a piece of parchment. To Harry's surprise, he handed the sheet over to Felixia with a smile, and Felixia curtseyed politely in response. Immediately, she started dashing about the store and picking up items of clothing, loading them onto a cart without wheels which had begun following her around.

"My niece has rather a fixation with shopping," said Snape from Harry's left, and Harry nodded.

"No kidding," he said, bewildered.

He didn't have the chance to hear any response from Snape, as Felixia had bustled over to him and grabbed his hand. She proceeded to drag him through the store to the back, and shoved him in a spacious curtained fitting room with mirrors for walls.

"I want to see everything," she said, before leaving the room with bouncing curls and closing the curtains behind her. That girl was confident for her age.

When Harry turned around, an outfit for him to try on was floating in front of him. He raised his eyebrow when he saw that they were Muggle clothes. Very… unflattering Muggle clothes. The pants were a muddy brown, and the shirt was yellow plaid. Harry dutifully tried it on, and walked out to greet Felixia. The little girl wrinkled her dainty nose in distaste and pointed back into the dressing room.

The next pair of clothes was a pair of wizarding robes that Dumbledore would be proud of. They were a bright turquoise with an underlying layer of purple. _Glittery _purple. Felixia pointed back into the room before he'd even walked fully out of it.

Relived, Harry tore of the robes and looked at the next pair of clothes. They were Muggle again, and he was relieved to note the lack of plaid.

The outfit consisted of an emerald green button up shirt, a pair of dark fitted jeans, and a brown belt with a silver lion as a buckle. He tried them on immediately, and when he looked in the mirror he liked what he saw. He couldn't remember a time when he had worn clothes that fit him. He noticed his broad shoulders and slim waist, and for the first time in a while actually thought he looked pretty decent. Minus his little round glasses.

Felixia was waiting for him again when he walked out to show her the outfit and she nodded her head in approval, motioning for him to go back in and try on the next outfit. When he took off the first outfit, it floated itself over to another cart at the side of the room and was replaced by a floating set of dark red wizard's robes. The material was pleasantly soft, and the color made his black hair stand out. Felixia nodded her approval at the robes as well, and Harry went back in to try on the next one. The pattern continued like that; first a Muggle outfit, then a Wizarding one, then a Muggle one, etc. Sometimes Felixia would approve, and sometimes she would shake her head in disgust, her little curls bouncing about on her head as she did so. Harry had no idea where Snape had gone to, but was glad that the man wasn't there to watch him modeling clothes. It would just be too awkward.

After he'd tried on the last outfit, Felixia demanded he go back into the room and put on the first outfit and bring her the old one. He rolled up the sleeves to his elbows and left the first two buttons undone at the collar, then walked out. He was surprised to see Snape standing next to Felixia, carrying a blackbag in one hand and Felixia's hand in his other.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Severus' heart rate accelerated when Potter walked out of the fitting room wearing a pair of dark jeans that left no curves to the imagination and a Slytherin green button up. His lightly tanned collar bones peaked out of his shirt, and his forearms were bare. Frustrated, Severus forced himself not to think that the brat was attractive.

"Are you done primping now, Potter? It's nearly lunch time," he said, ignoring the way that the boy's muscles showed in those pants while he walked.

"I wasn't _primping! _You're the one that let her dress me up, you know!" Potter replied, crossing his arms self-consciously in front of his chest. "Just let me pay for this outfit, and I'll be ready."

Snape looked over to see Potter's old outfit smoldering on the floor in front of Felixia. A bit dramatic, really, even for his niece.

"_Pay, _Potter? Why would you pay for that?" Snape asked, enjoying Potter's discomfort.

"Well, I can't very well walk out of here naked, can I?" Potter asked, glaring once more.

_An interesting proposition, _Severus thought. _Stop it, Severus!_

"Felixia's parents own this shop, Potter. Didn't she tell you? They agreed to outfit you since you're living with me now, just as they did Lupin." Obviously she hadn't, but it was fun to watch Potter squirm.

"What? I can't accept these clothes for free! Are you joking?" Potter yelped.

"You can and you will. I'm tired of seeing you in those rags, and you'll hurt Felixia's feelings if you don't accept," Severus said.

As if to prove his point, Felixia looked up at Potter with wide, tear-filled green eyes. Potter groaned, and knelt down to be level with her. She really was remarkably good at getting her own way. Not that she was spoiled. She was impossibly sweet and well-mannered, but she knew what those big green eyes did to melt a man's heart.

"Of course I'll accept, Felix. I'm sorry. I'm just not used to people giving me things. Thank you so much," Potter said, reaching out to wipe the tear that had leaked out of her left eye. She smiled pleasantly and thanked him. Severus noted that she neglected to mention that all of the outfits she had liked were already in Harry's wardrobe. It was wise of her to let him think for a while that she was only giving him the one outfit.

The next stop was the eyeglass shop. Potter hadn't gotten his prescription fixed during the school year as Severus had suggested, but seemed eager to get it taken care of then. Potter looked at a few frames, before deciding that he was going to opt to have his eyes fixed entirely instead. He mentioned something about being defenseless if he ever lost his glasses in a duel, and Severus mentally clapped him on the back for the foresight. The boy's eyes weren't meant to be hidden behind glasses anyway. The process didn't take long. Potter took the potion the sales wizard offered him, and waited patiently while the man chanted a long and complicated spell over his closed eyes. All-in-all, it was about five minutes to permanently fix his eyesight.

Potter paid for the practice himself, though he got a considerable discount for being the Boy Who Lived. Severus chose not to translate the bit about the discount.

It was disconcerting seeing Potter without his ever-present spectacles, though Severus felt he could get used to it. He wasn't sure what had been going on the past few months with his attitude for the boy, but he had finally come to the conclusion that his presence was acceptable. Not that Potter didn't irritate him to no end, and not that Severus would ever consider befriending him, but he wasn't entirely intolerable. Now that he didn't have the glasses, he looked less like his idiotic father, which made him marginally easier to be around as well.

Severus vowed to take all of those thoughts about the Potter boy to the grave.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry simply couldn't believe what he had been missing in his old glasses. Was this how normal people saw all the time? He noticed the blue sheen to Felixia's hair, and the light silvery scar on Snape's neck. Edges were sharper, and he noticed a new depth to colors that he had been previously unaware of.

When they stopped in a small café for lunch, Harry was still staring outside and watching birds fly by, examining flowers in the pots outside the windows, watching the little beetles crawl around in the dirt. It was an entirely different experience than he was used to. How had he missed these things his entire life?

"Potter, if you don't stop gawking outside, you're going to starve. Eat your sandwich," Snape commented disdainfully.

Harry looked down at the large roast beef and cheddar sandwich on his plate and felt his stomach rumble grumpily. He picked it up and scarfed it down in record time, sighing happily when he was finished and taking a large gulp of his water. He really _had _been starving. Who knew?

"Your table manners are appalling," said Snape, sipping his water loftily. His stew was gone too, Harry noted. Only Felixia was still eating, sopping up her soup with her bread. He legs dangled off her chair, and she was swinging her feet back and forth merrily.

Harry didn't reply. Instead, he slurped his water as loudly as he could, staring straight at Snape as he did so. Snape narrowed his eyes in irritation.

"Don't test me, Potter," he warned, but before he could elaborate on what he'd do if Harry didn't heed his warning, the waiter arrived with dessert. Harry grinned and stuck his finger in the whipped cream, staring at Snape innocently as he slurped it off.

"Insolent brat," Snape said, but his tone lacked the menace that Harry was accustomed to. Something fundamental had changed in their relationship within the past few months, and Harry couldn't really say that he wasn't pleased.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Remus returned the night after the full moon, and Harry greeted him with a hug in the parlor. Snape and Felixia were out in the gardens, catching fairies for their fairy lights.

"Wow, Harry. You clean up nice," Remus said, holding Harry at arm's length and looking at his outfit appreciatively. Harry was wearing a thin, fitted crimson t-shirt, his brown Gryffindor belt, and a pair of black trousers. His feet were bare because he'd been in the library reading all day.

"Felixia was quite persistent. Did you know she burned all of my old Muggle clothes?" Harry asked, toying with a lock of Remus' hair.

Remus chuckled. "She did the same to me. I bet you noticed how well-dressed I was when I returned to Hogwarts."

"I missed you, Remus," said Harry, blushing but looking Remus in the eye nonetheless.

"I missed you too," Remus replied gently.

Remus was leaning closer to Harry suddenly, and when Remus' hands snaked around his waist, Harry wrapped his arms around the werewolf's neck and their lips met. The kiss was gentle and sweet, and this time when Remus pushed him up to the back of a chair, the pressure was light. The support of the chair was there, but Remus wasn't insistent and demanding. When Remus' tongue ran along Harry's lower lip, Harry's breath hitched and he opened his mouth to allow him entrance. The kiss was languid and hot, and Harry mourned the loss of Remus' lips on his own when the werewolf pulled away.

"I'm sorry, Harry. We shouldn't be doing this here," Remus said, and Harry was just opening his mouth to say that _actually _this was exactly what they should be doing and where they should be doing it when a rather angry voice rang out through the room.

"Kindly keep your filth off of my furniture!"

Remus and Harry sprung apart as if they were burned, guiltily avoiding each other's eyes. Snape was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and his eyes flashing. For some reason Harry couldn't fathom, he looked absolutely furious.

"If you insist on these repulsive displays, I've provided private rooms for each of you. Choose one and stay there. Keep away from my chairs!" Snape snapped, turning on his heel and storming out of the room.

"What's got his knickers in a twist?" Harry asked, glaring grumpily after Snape.

"Who knows? It's Severus. We are in rather a public room, though," Remus said sheepishly, brushing his hand along Harry's arm.

"Well, we could always go up to _my _rooms," Harry said, his teenage hormones making themselves known.

"Harry, that's probably not the best idea. We're taking it slow, remember?" Remus asked, but his hand was still hot and trailing up and down Harry's arm.

"I know," Harry said, smiling ruefully at Remus.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Harry padded quietly through the house, down the staircase, across the entryway, and into the dining room. It was very early in the morning, and he had woken up with a rumbling stomach. Breakfast at Snape Manor was a fend for yourself situation, so he didn't feel bad as he was sneaking into the kitchen to raid the ice box.

He stopped dead in his tracks, however, when he entered the kitchen to see it was already occupied. Snape was standing at the stove, spatula in hand. Harry tried to back quietly out the way he had come, but he hit a broom sitting next to the doorframe on his way, and winced as it clattered noisily to the floor. Harry froze.

Snape didn't even turn around. Instead, he sighed long-sufferingly, reached out to the metal bowl sitting next to him, and tipped it down to peer inside. "Might as well come in, Potter. There's enough left for you."

Harry was still standing absolutely still, but unstuck his limbs with an effort and made his way stiffly to a stool at the breakfast bar. Snape hadn't been at dinner the night before, and Harry was worried that he was going to get another tongue lashing now that they were alone together. Snape, however, simply took his spatula, scooped something out of the pan in front of him, and placed it on a plate. When he turned around, Harry saw that there was a rather large stack of pancakes on the dish. He peered around Snape to see what size pan he was using, and was amazed to note that the pan was one of the small ones usually used to cook a couple of eggs or a meal for one.

Snape placed the pancakes down in front of him, raising his eyebrows at Harry's expression. "Magic," he said, smirking. He produced a little white pitcher that turned out to be full of sticky maple syrup, and a glass which he filled with ice cold milk. When he was done, he simply turned back to the stove and ladled more pancake batter into the pan.

Harry bravely fought _not _to think about how odd it was that he was sitting in Snape's kitchen, eating pancakes that Snape had made at four in the morning. It was even harder to fight the thoughts when Snape sat down next to him with a stack of his own pancakes and a glass of milk. Instead of commenting, Harry poured some syrup on his stack and cut off a little bite from the top pancake. Harry had always been fond of food, probably due to the fact that he had been deprived of it so many times. He'd also, apparently, been deprived of the most delicious pancake recipe in history. Who knew Snape was such a great cook?

Harry was halfway through his stack of pancakes, taking huge mouthfuls that Ron would have been proud of, when he heard a cough from his left. When he looked over, fork full and almost to his mouth, Snape was watching him.

"Slow down, Potter. You'll choke."

Harry grinned sheepishly and set his fork down, wiping his mouth with the napkin sitting by his plate. "Sorry, Professor. I know, bad manners and all that. These pancakes are _incredible." _

"Old family recipe," Snape said, taking a sip of his milk. "The secret ingredient is ground scarab eyes."

Harry choked on the bite he had just taken and looked at Snape, eyes wide and horrified. Snape was watching him with a smirk, and very deliberately picked up a forkful of his dish and placed it in his mouth.

Surely he wasn't serious? Harry knew that, as a Potions Master, Snape had all sorts of weird things lying about in glass jars, but would he really _cook _with them?

"You're joking… right?" Harry asked with trepidation.

Snape smirked wider. "Have you ever known me to jest, Mr. Potter?"

Despite Snape's words, Harry could tell by the gleam in Snape's eye that he had been tricked and groaned.

"Ha bloody, ha," he grumbled, picking up his glass of milk and taking a deep drink.

"You're too easy, Potter," Snape said, his tone rather self-satisfied.

Harry took the moment to marvel at the fact that _Professor Snape _had just played a trick on him. Was the world truly coming to an end?

They ate in what could only be called companionable silence after that, Harry scarfing his food, and Snape taking smaller, less hurried bites. Still, he somehow seemed to be keeping pace with Harry. When the post owl arrived, Harry let him eat off of his plate as he usually would Hedwig while Snape dug around in his green dressing gown for a knut.

Harry was perusing the front page of the paper as Snape put the knut in the owl's pouch, and nearly dropped it when he read the headline.

_**Minister's Assistant Found Dead and Drained of Magic**_

"_Drained of magic! _Is that even _possible?_" Harry yelped, appetite forgotten.

"What?" Snape snapped. He snatched the paper immediately out of Harry's slack hands. "Give me that."

Snape's eyes widened as he read over the article, and Harry chewed worriedly on his thumb nail as he watched Snape's eyes gliding back and forth along the page.

Snape was grinding his teeth, his hands shaking. "It seems the Dark Lord is finally making his appearance known."

"But _how _could he drain someone's magic?" Harry asked.

"There are old potions and spells, from the Dark Ages. They are forbidden, and supposedly impossible to perform, but if the Dark Lord wanted it bad enough… The legends say that absorbing the magic of another witch or wizard will keep the caster young forever," Snape said, clearly horrified. "But there's a reason it was forbidden. The act is extremely dangerous, and often drove the casters to insanity. They became obsessed with their youth, never feeling young enough and always feeling like they needed more. In the hands of someone who is already as unhinged as the Dark Lord, a spell or potion like that could cause mass destruction. Not to mention the things that sometimes come with the casting of such powerful and dark magic."

"But surely someone will stop him," Harry said, and Snape winced.

The Potions Master's face was unreadable, but Harry could tell that whatever was going through his head wasn't pleasant.

"I believe it's time we had a chat with the Headmaster," he said. "Go on and get showered and dressed. I'll fire call Albus."

Harry was confused, but didn't argue. He went up to his rooms and showered quickly, dressing in a pair of crimson wizard's robes with a white cotton shirt underneath. He hadn't liked any of the wizarding outfits at first, but he kept trying them on and eventually decided that they were quite comfortable.

When he reached the parlor, Remus, Snape, and Dumbledore were all sitting in the armchairs around the fire. An immediate sense of foreboding overcame him, and he nearly stepped back out. Every face in the room, including Remus', was grim and worried.

"Harry, do come in," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the chair directly next to his own.

Harry took his seat with trepidation, and nodded for the Headmaster to continue. To Harry's surprise, the Headmaster leant forward in his seat and placed his aged hand on top of Harry's own clenched fist. His blue eyes were full of worry and . . . what? Regret?

"Harry, I need you to understand that I would never keep something from you that would deliberately harm you. But there is something I have been hiding from you since the day you walked through the doors of Hogwarts." Dumbledore squeezed his hand gently, and Harry was grateful for the show of support. "There was a prophecy made concerning you, before you were even born. It was, in fact, made directly to me by none other than Sybill Trelawney."

Harry stared at the Headmaster incredulously, disbelief evident on his face. There was no way that old owl had made a real prophesy. Still, Dumbledore looked perfectly serious, despite the small smile that graced his lips at Harry's reaction.

"I know it's difficult to accept, but I assure you, child, that it is the absolute truth. I have the memory in my pensieve if you'd like to see it sometime."

Dumbledore took a deep breath, stealing himself, and continued. "The prophecy said that a boy born at the end of July would have the power to be the Dark Lord's demise. It said that the boy would be born to parents who opposed the Dark Lord. It also said, Harry, that neither can live while the other survives." Dumbledore squeezed his hand again, harder this time. "That boy was you, Harry Potter. Those parents were Lilly and James Potter."

Dumbledore looked impossibly sad at that moment. He looked as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. _Except now it rests on mine, _Harry thought, his head spinning. He wasn't normally one for such pessimistic thoughts, but how else was he supposed to take that type of news?

"We won't leave you to it alone, Harry," said Remus, grabbing Harry's other hand. Harry was breathing heavily, his ears buzzing. "Harry, calm down. Please. Listen to me. You aren't alone. We'll help you, I promise. We've already been training you, helping you learn to fight. It will be okay." Remus sounded distraught, but Harry didn't care at the moment. He couldn't breathe. He needed space. He needed air.

He stood up, suddenly, dropping both men's hands. He began backing out of the room, eyes darting from one concerned face to another. Snape was half standing, reaching out to him, but Dumbledore held up a hand to stop him.

"I just – I just need some air. I'm fine. I just need some air," he said, turning tail and dashing out the door. He made it out the back doors to the garden before his feet turned into paws and he was running on all fours, trying to get as far away as he could.

How could he, a sixteen-year-old boy, defeat the most powerful dark wizard the world had ever known? How could they expect that of him? He hadn't done it when he was a baby. His mom had, and she wasn't here now. How was he supposed to do what he was apparently destined to do?

Harry ran and ran and ran until he began to run out of breath. He slowed his pace, panting, and looked around him. He was in a forest now, and it was dark because the sun hadn't come up yet. Still, he could see pretty well in the dark with his canine eyes; the forest was reminiscent of the Dark Forest behind Hogwarts. There wasn't a trail that he could see, and the deeper he got the thicker the trees became. He could hear creatures scuttling around in the distance and the soft call of an owl from somewhere above him.

If it hadn't been for his acute hearing, he probably wouldn't have been able to turn around in time. As it was, he heard the soft but steady padding of large paws on the ground behind him and jerked around just in time to meet the creature head-on. He didn't know what kind of creature it was, but it was all sharp teeth and snarling and huge claws.

Harry reared up on his hind legs and caught the thing around the neck, howling menacingly. When he dug his teeth into its shoulder, the thing screeched angrily and clawed him in the stomach with its back foot, effectively shoving him to the ground. Harry didn't stay down long, instead launching himself at its back and finding himself being beaten away with leathery wings with little claws at the end. He could feel the claws digging into his back and neck and haunches, but ignored it. The adrenaline was kicking in and he could hear his blood rushing in his ears and his own snapping and yelping.

When Harry dug his teeth into the creature's neck, he felt hot blood spurt over his muzzle, but didn't have time to be disgusted because he was being launched off of its back and thrown into the air. His back hit the tree and his world went black for a moment. As he opened his eyes, he was horrified to realize that he was no longer in his animagus form. He raised a shaking, bloody hand to his face and groaned. His head was so fuzzy and he couldn't think clearly enough to change back; even if he could, he was suddenly so weak that he wasn't sure he'd be able to fight.

The thing, all shadows now that Harry didn't have his canine eye, was advancing on him, breathing heavily and angrily. Just as Harry thought _this is it. _This _is how I'm going to die, _a streak of black launched itself at the creature, tearing fiercely at its eyes and snout. The beast roared and tried to shake the black thing loose, but, even though Harry's savior was significantly smaller than his attacker, it clung on and kept swiping in all of the right places. It hit at eyes and the throat and the jaws and the nose, aiming with the type of precision that seemed calculated and deliberate.

The black thing (a fox, Harry noticed, with a white tipped tail and muzzle) jumped off of the large creature finally and bared his sharp, bloody teeth. The beast hesitated for just a moment, before snorting angrily and limping off into the forest.

The last thing Harry saw before he lost consciousness was the large fox walking up to him, concern in its sable eyes.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Harry woke up and realized dazedly that he was being carried by strong, warm arms. He buried his face in the black fabric covering the man's chest, trying to block out the harsh morning sun. He had a moment to feel bad for whoever was carrying him (he was heavy, and bloody, after all) before he passed out once again.

The next time he woke he was sure it wasn't a dream. He rarely dreamt of the Headmaster dozing by his bedside, after all. Besides, he was far too itchy and uncomfortable to be in a dream. He felt as if his back was covered in tiny little bugs with hairy legs, scurrying up and down his spine. He was just sitting up to reach back and scratch when the Headmaster stirred and opened his unusually spectacle-less blue eyes.

"Harry! Thank Merlin you're awake." Dumbledore looked intensely relieved, and Harry wondered just how long he had been asleep.

"You lost quite a bit of blood. If Severus hadn't followed you…" Harry didn't have the chance to reply, for a second later Dumbledore was on his bed and he was wrapped in a strong embrace. Through all the folds of robes Harry couldn't see a thing, but it was strangely comforting to have Dumbledore hugging him, and he gave into his baser instincts and wrapped his arms around the old man.

When Dumbledore let go, he held Harry at arm's length and beamed down at him. "I'm sorry, Harry. Sometimes I just can't help myself. Old age, you know."

"It's okay, Professor. It was nice," Harry said, and he meant it.

"I feel I owe you an apology. This was entirely my fault. I shouldn't have dropped the prophesy on you in such a way. I didn't realize… Well, of course anyone would panic when they heard that about themselves. But Harry, Remus spoke the truth. We have been training you for a reason. We are all here to help you. Nothing in the prophesy says that you have to do everything alone, and none of us would dream of asking you to." Dumbledore looked sincere, and Harry felt the panic that was bubbling inside of him subside.

"Professor… What was that thing that attacked me? I've never seen anything like it! It was like… Like a giant bat with paws and a tail and scales." Harry remembered the feel of the thing between his teeth and shuddered.

Dumbledore paled visibly before answering. "That, Harry, was a demon. A specific one, in fact. His name is Ornias."

"A _demon?_" Harry asked, disbelief evident in his tone.

"Yes, Harry. Ordinarily demons tend to keep to their own realm, unless summoned here. We have noticed a drastic increase in demonic activity over the past few weeks, though. We expect that the demons are breaking through into our realm when Voldemort casts whatever spell he's using to drain people of their magic." Dumbledore was direct, and Harry was grateful. He needed to know the unmitigated truth, no matter how hard it set his heart to pounding.

"Severus said that he'd mentioned to you some of the side-effects one would encounter if casting such a spell. The most dangerous side-effect, we fear, is the thinning of the veil between our realm and another. Possibly more than just one other," Dumbledore continued.

"How do you fight a _demon, _Headmaster?" Harry was pretty sure that wasn't covered in Charms or Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"We will teach you, Harry. It's difficult, but it can be done. It's a mix between wandless magic and a type of mind strengthening called Occlumency." Dumbledore had moved back to his armchair, which looked suspiciously like the one in his office. "Wandless magic is extremely difficult, and much, much more powerful. The mind strengthening is necessary so that the demons cannot invade your hrad."

Something occurred to Harry then, something he hadn't really paid attention to because his mind was occupied with other things.

"Headmaster, you said Professor Snape came after me?" Harry asked, and Dumbledore nodded.

Harry's mind flashed back to a black fox with a bushy white-tipped tail standing in front of him protectively. Had that fox been Snape? Had he been that snarling, vicious, beautiful creature who had taken down a demon on its own? And if so, why? Why would Snape risk absolutely everything, his very life, for Harry?


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thank you everyone who reviewed! It means a lot and really keeps me inspired! I'm pleased to have such positive feedback! I've been very busy with work and classes and such (and getting engaged! Wow!) so I haven't had a lot of time for writing, but I'm trying to make up for it now. Thanks for sticking with me! This is unedited, so please forgive any mistakes! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Nor did I make up the spells used in this. They were shamelessly stolen from my favorite TV series, Merlin. **

"Oh get up, Potter!" Snape snarled, grabbing Harry by the collar of his robes and hauling him to his feet.

"Maybe I wouldn't be down so much if you'd actually _teach _me something instead of flinging spells at me that I have no hope of blocking!" Harry snapped, jerking away from his professor and crossing his arms in irritation.

This was their first lesson in Merlinian magic. Apparently, Merlin didn't use a wand in his day. There weren't nearly as many spells, but his spell casting held much more power than the spells in the future. They also, consequently, took much more energy. Snape didn't see that as a problem. Instead of teaching Harry anything useful, the second Harry walked in he just started spouting wandless spells. The first few Harry dodged thanks to his Seeker reflexes, but after a while Snape started hitting him and Harry started going down. Painfully.

"The best way to learn these spells is through reflexes. This magic is linked directly with the Earth's magic. As wizards, who are directly linked with the Earth, these spells are already within us. The words are part of our instincts. We just need to dig to find them. _You _just need to dig to find them!" Snape snapped, wiping a bead of sweat off his brow.

"So you're telling me, Professor, that you just miraculously _knew _all of these spells you're throwing at me? You didn't read about a single one?" Harry asked incredulously.

Snape's lips quirked in a wry smile. "No, I studied these spells for years. I'm still studying these spells, actually. However, the first time I discovered I could use them was on my own before I even knew such things were possible."

"Then stop being such a hypocrite and teach me something!" Harry snapped, irritated. Even though he knew it was childish, he turned away from Snape and crossed his arms.

Harry yelped when he felt something whack the back of his arm and turned to glare at Snape. The man was standing there brandishing his wand like a sword, sneering.

"What was that for?" Harry demanded, rubbing the welt on his arm.

"I will not tolerate your insolence in my own home, Potter. Show some respect!" Snape sniffed and turned away, clearly irritated.

"Like you've ever shown _me _respect," Harry grumbled under his breath.

Suddenly Harry was tossed into the air and thrown at the wall like a ragdoll. The walls were magically padded, but hitting them with that force still hurt.

When he stood up, he was furious. Of all the underhanded, slimy, horrible things to do! Who hit a person when his back was turned? Snape was standing on the other side of the room looking smug with his arms crossed over his chest. Was Harry just some plaything to be tossed around on Snape's whim?

As Harry's irritation grew, he felt a stirring inside his chest. Though they were inside, wind swirled around him, swaying his hair and making his robes billow. The tingling started in his stomach and traveled up through his chest and arms until it reached his outstretched fingertips and suddenly he remembered one of the spells Snape had used as if he'd always known it.

"_Wace ierlic!" _

Harry's eyes flashed golden briefly and he felt the power rush out of his chest and through his fingers. It flung at an extremely unsuspecting Snape, who was tossed unceremoniously back and slid across the length of the ballroom floor, only stopping when his back hit the wall at the other end.

Harry had a moment to think _oops_ before he crumpled to the floor in exhaustion.

"_Now _we're getting somewhere!" Snape said, striding over to Harry. Harry looked up wearily from his place on the floor and was mildly intrigued to note that there was something akin to excitement shining in Snape's eyes.

"You're not… Well, mad?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"For the love of Merlin, Potter! I'm not ill-tempered _all _the time!" Snape said, rolling his eyes and offering Harry a hand up.

"Could have fooled me," Harry mumbled, but accepted Snape's hand nonetheless.

He was pretty sure he imagined Snape's quiet but sharp intake of breath upon contact.

/

When Severus suddenly found himself soaring across the room he was, needless to say, quite taken aback. He had spent hours upon hours attempting to goad one measly little spell out of the brat, and he had nearly given up hope. Once again, Potter surprised him. Really, the way he kept doing that was irritating.

Severus was entirely unprepared for the spark he felt when the Potter boy took hold of his hand. His hand was warm and sweaty and by all means should have been horrid to touch. And yet, the second their skin made contact Severus felt his heart jump and his thoughts almost stopped.

Quickly dropping their hands once the boy was standing, he fought for composure. What was _wrong _with him? He was a grown man, and he was certainly not attracted to gangly sixteen-year-olds with messy hair and long necks and gorgeous eyes and – _ok, enough!_

Severus looked at Potter and noticed how worn he looked. His skin was pale and his eyes were drooping, and Severus was pretty sure that he was about to pass out.

"That's enough for today, Potter. You should shower and rest. I'll have Felixia make sure you're awake for dinner," Severus said, not missing Potter's fleeting look of relief.

"We shall begin again in the morning," Severus said, smirking with satisfaction when the boy groaned.

Once Severus was positive that the Potter boy was going to make it up the stairs without permanently damaging himself, he went to his own room and changed into a clean black shirt and a pair of Muggle jeans. Ordinarily he would shower after getting so sweaty, but he had a lot of restless energy that he needed something to do with. It was only about 1 in the afternoon, so he made his way out to the gardens in the back of the manor, grabbed his spade, and began to work.

He could have easily used magic to make his plants grow, or to weed or turn the soil, but he sometimes needed a distraction and liked to do things with his hands. Besides, the plants seemed to have a better quality when grown the natural way. They held more potency for his potions or for his meals. And there was just something satisfying about using something you had spent time and energy growing on your own.

While he worked, he thought about the layout of his garden in an attempt to keep his thoughts off of other, more tempting matters. The stone walkway started directly after the stretch of grass in the back of the manor. It was lined with special wizarding trees spaced evenly apart on both sides. The top of each tree stretched over the path and met with its counterpart on the other side, creating plenty of shade and a rather fetching archway. The trees were his favorite, stuck perpetually in the reds and oranges and yellows of autumn, with bioluminescent flowers which glowed a soft white when the sun went down.

After the line of trees was a large open space covered in grass, with a gazebo in the center. English ivy crept up the pillars and made its way over the roof of the gazebo. Surrounding the area in no discernible pattern were flowers if every kind. Fox gloves, snap dragons, tulips, daisies, chrysanthemums – everything. Severus still remembered the way his mother had planted this section of the garden.

_It was just a few months after Maximus had chased off their father, and Severus and his mother were sitting on the bare patch of grass trying to decide what would be the best way to plant the large variety of seeds they had sitting before them in little baskets. _

"_Well, what if we put the daisies over there," Severus said, pointing to a spot next to the gazebo (which was bare at the time). "No, but then I don't think they'd look good next to the fox gloves…" he decided, squinting a bit in frustration. _

"_Severus," his mother said, and Severus looked over to see her smiling mischievously. Her black hair was tied back and she was wearing a dirty white t-shirt and a pair of worn out Muggle jeans. Her eyes were sparkling with mirth, and Severus couldn't help but grin with her, though he had no idea why she was so happy. _

"_Severus, watch. I have an idea," she said, then jumped to her feet and grabbed a few seeds from five different baskets. They were falling out of her hands, slipping through her fingers like water droplets, but she didn't seem to care. She gave Severus a brilliant smile, lifted her arms out away from her body, and began to spin. _

_Severus was confused until he saw the seeds leaving her hands a few at a time, landing wherever they wanted to land. His mother was laughing, breathless, and Severus thought he had never seen her so happy. _

"_Join me, Severus!" she exclaimed, grabbing another few handfuls and running to the other side of the space to start spinning again. _

_Severus complied, grabbing up large handfuls of seeds and spinning and spinning and spinning until he couldn't tell whether he was still spinning or standing still. _

_He didn't know how long they continued like that, but eventually they ended up on the ground amidst the empty baskets, gasping for breath, sweating, and laughing heartily. When they had calmed somewhat, Severus looked at his mother and smiled. _

_She smiled warmly back. "Look, Severus," she said, reaching out her hand and laying it flat on the ground. "__Blóstmá," she whispered, and her eyes flashed golden. _

"_Look," she said again, and Severus looked around him to see the seeds sinking into the grass, then little green sprouts spit up out of the ground all around them and before he knew it they were surrounded by a myriad of colors and fresh floral scents. The sight was breathtaking, and Severus knew he would never forget it. He would never forget that day or that moment. _

That section of the garden never died in winter. The plants never needed caring for, never lost leaves or grew weeds or wilted. It was untouched by time, immortal and forever breathtaking.

Severus sat back on his heels and wiped the sweat from his brown with the back of his arm. The section of the garden he was working on at the moment was off to the left of his mother's flowers, and it housed his more… sensitive potions ingredients. He'd dedicated an extra portion of the area to wolfsbane, as he had to use in monthly for Lupin's potion.

_Lupin, _Severus thought, suddenly shoving his spade into the ground with more vigor. Unbidden, an image of Potter pressed against a chair by Lupin's body sprung into his mind's eye and he nearly snarled. He tried to concentrate on turning the soil, but he couldn't stop the thoughts from whirling around in his head. He imagined Lupin in Potter's room late at night, touching, loving, whispering sweet nothings breathlessly in the boys ear.

Suddenly he tossed his spade to the ground in frustration. _Why _did it bother him so much? Severus Snape did not, as a rule, get jealous. Yet he could find no other word for what he was feeling.

He looked down at the plants he had been digging around and this time he did snarl. He'd completely torn the bulbs out, so absorbed had he been in his own thoughts.

"Um, Professor? What did those plants ever do to you?" came Potter's voice from behind him and Snape closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

"Funny, Potter," Snape said finally, before turning around to look at the boy in question. He was standing there grasping his left arm with his right hand. He was wearing a plain green t-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts.

"What are you doing out here? I thought I told you to rest," Severus said, standing and wiping the sweat off his forehead again.

"Well, I took a shower and tried to rest but I just couldn't. I feel restless and I just thought that maybe if I took a short walk…" Potter said, rubbing his arm in embarrassment.

"Your gardens are beautiful. Those flowers… I've never seen a garden like that," Potter said, turning his head in the direction of the flower garden.

"My mother and I planted them when I was just a boy," Severus said, not knowing why he was sharing something so personal with Potter, but not able to help it. The boy had a light blush gracing his cheeks, and his wet hair was falling into his eyes. Severus suddenly found himself fascinated.

"Do you need help replanting those bulbs?" Potter asked suddenly and Severus looked up from where he was studying Potter's neck to look into the boys eyes.

"Pardon?" Severus asked, and Potter blushed again.

"I just… Well, I had a garden at the Dursley's. Well, it was Petunia's garden, but I've worked it my whole life and I actually quite enjoy it and I just thought that those bulbs didn't look quite ready to come out and…" Potter trailed off, seemingly realizing that he was rambling, and shrugged his shoulders.

"Sure," Severus said before he could stop himself. _What? Tell the boy to go away, blast it! _

But it was too late. Potter was smiling slightly and kneeling down in the freshly turned earth.

"If we get them back in soon enough, they shouldn't take any damage," Potter said, as if Severus hadn't been gardening his entire life.

"I suppose you know that," the boy amended sheepishly as Severus knelt beside him and began working.

"Indeed," Severus said. He wasn't sure what to make of the situation. How was he supposed to act? Part of him wanted to lash out at the boy and make him go away, and yet another, larger part wanted to sit here in this semi-companionable silence for as long as he possibly could. _Ridiculous, _he thought to himself, snorting aloud and ignoring the look Potter shot him.

"Was this all your mother's garden?" Potter asked, and Snape stopped to look up at the boy who was looking down and yet seemed to be watching him, possibly gauging his reaction, out of the corner of his eye.

After a suitable amount of silence in which Severus questioned why he was even coming close to considering talking to Potter about his mother, Severus answered. "Yes. She had been building it since before I was born. I've expanded considerably since I inherited the estate. The last section she finished was the flower garden."

"It must be your favorite, then," Potter said, sneaking a glance at Severus before turning back to what he was doing.

Severus smiled a little. The boy was trying to get to know him. How strange. He knew that the all-consuming animosity between them had been slowly dwindling, but he hadn't expected this.

"What's funny?" the boy asked, and Severus looked up to see him sitting on his heels and looking at Severus with a small smile playing at his lips.

"Nothing. No, the flower garden isn't my favorite, though it holds the most pleasant memories. My favorite are the Faoulaine Trees. They're the ones lining the path from the house to the gardens," Severus said, still not understanding why he was being so open.

"They're beautiful. I've never seen anything like them before," Potter said, going back to his work.

"Wizarding plants are often more beautiful than ordinary plants. More useful, too. It's a shame you didn't grow up in the wizarding world, Potter," Severus said.

Potter stopped again and looked at him strangely. "Do you think so?" he asked.

"Do I think what, Potter?" Severus asked, perplexed.

"Do you think that it's a shame I didn't grow up in the wizarding world?" The boy had stopped working completely, and was sitting cross-legged in the soil.

"Do you not?" Severus asked, confused. Who wouldn't prefer to grow up in the wizarding world.

"I used to think so. But I don't think I would be who I am today if I had. My upbringing was horrible, but it made me a stronger person. It made me appreciate what I have… If I'd grown up in the wizarding world, having everything handed to me, who knows what kind of person I'd be. Maybe I'd really be the spoiled brat you think I am," Potter said, and for the first time Severus started to see the young man instead of the boy.

Before Severus could form a response, a fat drop of rain landed on his hand, and then another on his nose and another on his head and suddenly it was pouring down rain and Severus could hardly see across the garden.

"Come on, Potter. Let's get to the gazebo," Severus said, standing and offering Potter a hand up.

Potter took it and they ran at the gazebo in hope of shelter. When they reached it, they were soaked from head to toe and breathless. Potter was grinning widely, laughing openly. Severus was captivated. He had never been around when Potter was so unrestrained in his happiness. He'd always been the one to make to boy – man, angry. His laugh was amazing. It made Severus' heart flutter and he couldn't help staring.

What had he gotten himself into?


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: In apology for my long absence, I have put together another chapter already! Yay! It gets a little higher than PG here, so be warned! Again, this is unedited so please bear with me and help me find mistakes! **

Harry couldn't help laughing as he and Snape ran for shelter from the sudden summer shower. Their conversation had been all seriousness and sadness and then, boom, it was pouring down rain. It was amusing to him. Besides, he loved summer showers. They seemed to wash away the oppressive heat, bringing with them a sense of calm and clean air.

By the time that they reached the gazebo, Harry was drenched from head to toe. He looked over at Snape and laughed again. The man was also, of course, drenched, and Harry didn't think he had ever seen his professor look less put-together. His hair was falling out of its tie and hanging limply into his eyes, and his shirt was so drenched that it clung to him like skin. He wasn't laughing, but he had a sort of half smile that Harry doubted Snape was aware of.

"Well, that was fun," Harry said, grinning broadly but no longer in hysterics.

Snape didn't say anything. He seemed to be lost in thought, and Harry wondered if being in the flower garden was reminding him of his mother.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, stepping closer to the man in concern. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have cared. But he had developed a sense of appreciation for Snape ever since coming to live with him. Snape wasn't as acerbic outside of the school, and Harry hadn't fought with him more than a couple times over the summer. Also, Harry couldn't quite shake the feeling of owing Snape for saving his life from the demon. He wasn't positive that the fox had been his professor, but all the facts seemed to point that way and he was very aware of the fact that he probably would not be alive if it weren't for the man's interference.

Snape looked at Harry strangely, thoughtfully. He seemed ready to say something, and Harry was vaguely aware of one of Snape's hands reaching out as though to touch him.

"I – " Snape began, but was cut off by someone else running up into the gazebo. Snape snatched his hand back as if he'd been bitten and looked away, and Harry couldn't help wondering what the man had been about to say; It had seemed important. . .

"Harry! I thought I'd find you here," Remus said, grinning and shaking himself in a very canine-like fashion. "Oh, hello Severus! Lovely whether, eh?"

"Why were you looking for me?" Harry asked, smiling at Remus' antics.

Remus stopped shaking and looked at Harry, suddenly serious. "Why, Harry! I'm surprised at you!" he said, and Harry just looked at him, bemused.

"Am I missing something?" he asked.

"Yes, yes you are! You're missing a perfect opportunity to play in the rain and get absolutely sodding soaked!" Remus exclaimed, and with that he crossed the gazebo, picked up a squawking and giggling Harry, nodded somberly to Snape, and marched out into the rain.

Harry caught one glimpse of Snape, standing in the gazebo and watching them walk away, before the rain became too heavy and all he saw was a blurred black shape.

When Remus broke into a run, Harry put Snape to the back of his mind and started laughing. "Moony! Where are you taking me? We're getting soaked!"

"I know! It's in wonderful?" Remus exclaimed, laughing deeply. They ran for a while, and the padding of Remus' feet on the grass began to sound more like the padding of feet on wood.

"Remus! Put me down, you crazy wolf!" Harry exclaimed, grinning.

"If you say so!" Remus said, and Harry knew he was in trouble even before he was launched away from the other man's body.

His surprised yell was cut off quickly as he landed with a splash in some large body of water. Thankfully it was warm. He swam his way to the surface, grinning and gasping for breath. When he cleared his eyes of water he looked around and saw Remus standing on the edge of the pond (lake?), doubled over with laughter.

"You won't get away with this!" Harry yelled, swimming to edge of the dock (a lake, then) and dragging himself out of the water. He was very aware of the fact that he didn't look at all intimidating, soaked and dripping as he was, which wasn't helped by the fact that his shoes made a loud squelching noise every time he took a step. Remus took one look at him and began laughing harder than ever.

Harry quietly toed off his shoes and began walking towards Remus, hoping the man was too distracted by laughing to notice him getting closer. As luck would have it, he was, and Harry whooped triumphantly as he sprinted the last couple steps and tackled Remus to the ground.

That was the plan anyway. At the last second, using his inhuman speed, Remus jumped up and grabbed Harry around his waist, obviously intending to drag him over to the water and launch him in again. Harry was quick as well though, and just as Remus gave himself enough momentum to throw Harry in, Harry locked his legs around the man's waist and his arms around his neck and they both toppled unceremoniously into the lake.

"Ha!" Harry said as they surfaced, and was pleased to note that Remus looked appropriately startled and was spluttering.

"Think you're funny, huh?" Remus said, and, without further ado, jumped on Harry and shoved his head under the water.

Harry retaliated by reaching up and grabbing the man's shoulders to pull him down as well and then they were laughing and splashing and trying to get one up on the other and acting like children but not really caring. The rain was deafening as it landed on the lake, and the there was thunder in the distance. When they stopped to breathe, Harry couldn't help but radiate contentment, treading water and smiling and relishing the feel of the rain splattering on his face and neck.

/

Remus was watching Harry, pleased to see him smiling and laughing, free from his thoughts for once in his short life. Remus was usually a composed person, but he didn't mind acting like a fool to make those he cared about happy. And he cared about Harry a lot. He couldn't stand to see him so weighed down by all the troubles in the world.

Remus thought that Harry looked absolutely breathtaking, soft, wet, pink lips begging to be kissed, and licked his own lips in anticipation before swimming closer and reaching out to the boy.

/

Harry opened his eyes to see Remus much closer than he had been before, with a sort of hooded look in his honey eyes. Harry's breathing hitched when the man grabbed his arm and pulled him closer, and when their lips met he groaned in pleasure. He had to remind himself to keep swimming, which was extremely difficult when all he wanted to think about was the overwhelming heat radiating from Remus, sending little shocks of pleasure tingling down his spine.

Apparently, Remus was having the same problem because they started to sink for a moment before remembering that they needed to kick their legs and bobbing to the surface again. Remus broke the kiss then, and Harry made a little sound of protest.

Remus just grinned and started swimming towards the shore, going around the dock. Harry eagerly followed. It turned out the lake also had a sandy beach area, but Harry didn't have much time to note that fact before he was pressed down into said sand by a very hot and very eager body. Remus' lips were back on his, and when Harry felt a tongue asking for entrance he opened his mouth with enthusiasm. The kiss was hot and heavy and passionate, and Harry was extremely aroused.

When they broke the kiss for air, Harry looked into Remus' eyes and flushed hotly. His eyes were no longer the warm honey, but the feral gold of the wolf. Remus was gorgeous, breathing irregular and heavy; chest, barely concealed by his wet white shirt, heaving. His cheeks were flushed and Harry could feel his hot and hard arousal pressing into his thigh.

"Harry," Remus groaned, his voice deep and husky. "Merlin, I want you, Harry." Harry didn't have time to respond before Remus' lips crashed onto his again and their feverish kiss began anew. Harry gasped when he felt Remus' hands coming up under his shirt and pulling it up hastily. Harry arched his back and lifted his arms, and when the shirt disappeared he hastily reached down to yank Remus' own shirt off and then their bare chests were touching and, oh, that heat!

Harry groaned when Remus shifted so their hips were aligned and he could feel the other man's erection rubbing against his own and the friction was nearly unbearable and oh, Merlin, it felt so good.

"Remus," he choked out, panting and groaning and never wanting this moment to end. "More. Please, Remus, I can't take it."

Remus growled, actually _growled_¸ and Harry moaned outright. Then before he knew it his shorts were gone and Remus' jeans were gone and Remus' hand was on him and he was rubbing them together and Harry's thoughts stopped.

Later, when the rain had slowed to a soft drizzle, they were sitting in the shallow water with Harry leaning his back against Remus' chest and Remus' arms wrapped around Harry's middle.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Remus asked, and Harry hummed in affirmation.

"I won't say I'm sorry, because I'm not, but it wasn't my plan to let things get that far," Remus said, and Harry dazedly shook his head.

"I'm glad it did get that far," Harry said, and Remus chuckled. Harry turned to look at Remus with a rather serious expression on his still-flushed face. "Please don't regret what we've done, Remus. I don't want to hear you say that it won't happen again or anything like that. I'm glad it happened. I'm glad I could be that close to you."

Remus considered him quietly, before nodding his head. "Okay. You're right, Harry. It wasn't wrong, and I don't think it was too soon. I don't regret it in the least bit."

Harry smiled in satisfaction before turning back to watching the lake. The sun was setting, he was sure, but it couldn't be seen very well through the stormy grey clouds. A thought occurred to him suddenly, one he was surprised hadn't come to him before. He was an animagus now, and that meant a werewolf wouldn't attack him and that meant…

"Remus, can I run with you? You know, on the next full moon?" Harry asked. He would have taken Remus' silence as indication that he hadn't heard the question if not for the unmistakable stiffening in the other man's limbs.

"Harry, I don't think that's a good idea," Remus said gently.

"Why? I'm an animagus now, and Sirius and my father did it. Why can't I? You'll have the potion, too, which means you won't be dangerous. I don't see why it's a bad idea. Don't you miss having company on the full moons?" Harry was hyper aware of his tone of voice, and fought with determination not to let any hint of pleading enter it.

Remus twined his fingers through Harry's and took a deep breath. "Okay.. We'll give it a try. But we stay in the woods behind the estate, alright? No further."

"Of course," Harry said managing to keep his wide smile out of his voice.

And so he found himself on the full moon, running alongside Remus. He could feel excitement radiating off of Remus, and when he howled, Harry howled along with him. They ran and ran and ran for hours, never tiring, constantly stopping to play.

Suddenly, Remus was picking up his speed, and Harry knew he wanted to race. Still, no matter how fast Harry's legs carried him, he was no match for the supernatural speed and strength of the werewolf. In no time at all, Remus had outdistanced him and all Harry could hear was his playful howling.

He didn't know what happened then. One minute he was running, and the next he wasn't. He hadn't felt an impact, and he hadn't meant to stop. He felt hands grasping him and instantly began to snarl, kicking and thrashing and biting.

"He's a feisty one," a distinctly male voice said.

"We'll fix that," said a female voice.

"You know we're not supposed to hurt him," said the male voice.

"Who said I'm going to hurt him?" the female voice snapped.

Harry was still thrashing wildly, and snapping. He felt flesh between his teeth then and hot blood spurted into his mouth, nearly choking him. The woman screamed.

"Bella, put that away!" Snapped the man, but too late. A whispered spell was the last thing Harry heard and then there was darkness.

/

It took Remus all of two minutes to realize that he didn't hear the steady rhythm of Howler's padding feet behind him any longer. What he did hear though made him howl in anger and turn swiftly around to bound back in the other direction. He no longer controlled the wolf, despite the potion, but it didn't matter because they wanted the same thing. Harry was in danger. They smell it, hear it, almost _feel _his panic.

He saw the man sling Howler's unconscious body over his shoulder and snarled, livid. The man looked up, and Remus had the distinct pleasure of smelling him dampening himself slightly as Remus loped towards him and the woman. He howled again, furious and loud and panicked. He thought he was going to reach them. He reached out his long arm and growled, nearly touching, knowing he was so close to saving the boy he cared so very much about. And then they disapparated with a loud _pop _and they were gone and he howled and screamed and raged in frustration and despair.

Remus tore through the forest, screeching and snarling and howling and tearing down trees and not caring. He had to get back. He had to tell Severus. He had to.

Dawn approached just as he reached the porch of the estate, and he saw Severus and Albus waiting for him as usual with a blanket and some clothes. He shifted painfully back into his human form as the sun peeked over the horizon and he had just enough energy to walk over to them before he collapsed, naked and dirty and panicking still, at their feet.

"Harry," he said, and Severus and Albus exchanged an alarmed look. "Harry. They took him. Albus, it was Bellatrix. Bellatrix Lestrange. They took Harry to _him_. I tried to stop them. I tried. But by the time I reached them they had disapparated."

Severus was livid, and Albus was radiating calm, but his eyes were dull and Remus could tell that he was just as afraid as the rest of them. And there was one question buzzing around in all of their minds like a persistent fly, nagging and poking and refusing to leave.

_Where was he?_

/

When Harry opened his eyes, he was still in his animagus form. He was a little confused and fuzzy, and had no idea where he was. A million new smells invaded his powerful senses, but the most prominent was a musty, warm, altogether pleasant smell that made him feel abnormally comfortable and safe. He blinked.

_Safe? _He thought, shaking his head. This was not safe. He was kidnapped, and he had no idea where he was. He didn't know where Remus was. He didn't know anything. There was nothing _safe _about this.

"Ah, Harry. You're awake," said a smooth voice. It was warm like honey, deep and sensuous. Harry had never heard anything like it.

When he turned to look at the owner of the voice, though, he jumped up and bared his teeth. His fur stood on end and he snarled. Looking calmly back at him was a tall man with broad shoulders and a slim waist. He was tan, with a crop of thick curly hair atop his head. His eyes were brown, overlaid with a tint of unmistakable red. Though he looked older than Harry remembered from the diary, possibly in his early twenties, Harry recognized him in an instant.

_Tom Marvolo Riddle. _ _Lord Voldemort. _

"Now, Harry. There's no need for violence. I mean you no harm," he said in that voice which, despite Harry's fury, made him shiver. Harry growled again in protest.

"I don't expect you to believe me now, Harry, but I have changed since my return. I know I was a bit… unhinged, when I was a younger man. But I'm different now. You'll see," Voldemort said, placating.

"There's food for you next to the bed, and a house elf on staff should you need anything. Assuming you decide to change back, there are fresh clothes in the wardrobe. The bathroom is there," he said, pointing. Harry didn't take his eyes off the man, nor did he relax his defensive position. "I'll leave you to rest. It is only early morning. This afternoon I shall return and show you around. Oh, and Harry? Kindly refrain from attacking either me or anyone in my staff. That collar you're wearing will give you quite the nasty shock if you should try."

Harry didn't relax for a good half hour after the man, if he could be called that, left. After he'd stretched out his stiff limbs, he wandered around the room he was being held captive in. The food at the bedside smelled delicious, but he avoided it. What if it was poisoned? The room was just as large as his room back at the estate, but filled with tans and creams instead of reds and gold.

In the bathroom there was a full-length mirror, and he stopped to examine himself. He had been cleaned, and his coat glistened in the candlelight. His ears were back, and his tail down, clear signs of his distress. What caught his interest the most though, was the black collar that was fit snugly around his neck. It had a swirling silver design on it, with a little silver chain hanging off the front. Hanging off the front was a silver pendant shaped like a dragon with two glowing emeralds for eyes.

Harry snorted in disgust and walked away. He needed to get out of there. He hadn't fallen for any of Voldemort's crap about being reformed. Whatever sick, twisted, game the man was playing Harry wanted no part of it.

**Let me know what you think! I like reviews. They make me update-happy :D. It's like trigger-happy… only less deadly :P.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I hope this is okay! No edit, and I have been sleep deprived and/or a little tipsy during the whole writing process! Enjoy!**

"We have to do _something,_" Remus said for what felt like the hundredth time. He, Albus, Severus, and (merlin help him) Sirius were all sitting around the dining table which was currently strewn with maps and empty plates and ink and quills and spyglasses and anything else they could think of that might have proven useful.

"What do you recommend we do, Lupin? We have absolutely no way of tracking him, we have no information whatsoever on the Dark Lord's whereabouts; in short, we don't have one single sodding clue as to how to find Harry," Severus snarled. Severus had almost been more on edge than any of them, and the fact that he had taken to using Harry's first name wasn't lost on Remus. Watching Severus run his hand through his hair and tug for the fifth time in as many minutes, he wondered what had changed in Severus' view of Harry. He wasn't sure that he liked the ideas that came to mind.

"I _know _that! Don't you think that I know that? But why are we all just _sitting _here? We should be researching tracking spells, searching, something! I can't just sit here and do nothing while Harry is out there having Merlin knows what done to him!" Remus was in hysterics, snarling and clenching the table hard enough to make it splinter.

"Calm down, Moony. We'll find him. I promise," said Sirius before reaching across the table and laying his hand atop Remus' white knuckles. Remus' eyes, which were a feral yellow, faded back to honey brown and his death grip on the splintering wood loosened. Remus looked up at Sirius with eyes full of frustrated tears and tentatively slid his hand out from underneath the other one.

"Thanks, Padfoot," Remus said simply.

"Touching, really, but – " Severus started, but before he could finish his sentence he let out a shocked gasp of pain and grasped his left forearm.

Everyone at the table froze, waiting for Severus to speak.

"I'm being summoned. I must go. Now. I'll be in contact," Severus ground out between clenched teeth.

And then, without so much as a 'pop', he was gone, leaving the remaining three men staring at his unoccupied chair in shock.

Slowly, they turned to look at each other.

"Well, I suppose it's in Severus' hands now, my boys," Dumbledore said.

"That's what we're afraid of," said Sirius darkly.

/

Harry awoke to the sound of his grumbling stomach. He was lying underneath the bed and had absolutely no idea how long he had been asleep.

When he crawled out from his hiding place he could smell a brand new, still hot, meal sitting in wait for him on his bedside table. It was steak and kidney pie. His mouth watered. He took a single step towards the dish before shaking his head, snorting, and turning away. He would _not _be tricked into poisoning himself.

He padded silently over to the mirror and looked at himself again, eyes immediately drawn to the pendant around his neck. He'd tried once to remove it and received the shock of his life. Literally. It had hurt like hell and he wasn't eager to repeat the experience.

Suddenly Harry heard the door to his room opening and he was instantly alert, the fur on his neck standing on end. He raced into the room, crouched down, and snarled at a completely unaffected house-elf. Said elf sniffed and raised his head.

"The Master will be seeing you now," it (for Harry could not for the life of him figure out whether it was male or female) said. "Follow me."

Harry was reluctant, and yet he had been stuck in that same room for at least two days by his count (Voldemort never had returned to "show him around" his first day) and the prospect of getting out was altogether too tempting to resist. So, reluctantly, he followed the little house elf out of his room, through a few passageways, up a flight of stairs, and through a set of doors to rival those in the Great Hall.

Sitting in the middle of the room – a vast library – was none other than Lord Voldemort himself, one leg crossed over the other and looking for all the world as if he were about to host a gentlemen's tea party. Harry growled quietly despite himself.

"You know, eventually you'll have to change back. You can't stay like this forever," Voldemort said, waving his hand in dismissal of the house elf.

"Come closer, Harry," he said. Harry didn't. Instead, he turned to sniff around the room. He walked over to the nearest bookshelf and explored, smelling nothing but dust and parchment, then moved onto the next, and the next, and so-on until he had explored pretty much the entire room. It was the last bookshelf, though, that caught his attention. There was some familiar scent lingering on these books. Potion books, he realized, suddenly suspicious. When he turned to look at Voldemort, he noticed the man looking right back at him, eyes narrowed. Harry wondered what kind of control it must have taken not to hex him into next Sunday for disobeying. More importantly, _why hadn't he?_ It was unlike Voldemort to display such self-restraint.

"If you're quite finished. Come here before I make you," Voldemort said, and Harry felt a gentle little tug at the collar around his neck. Breathing out heavily through his nose once, he padded over to Voldemort and stood a good length out of arm's reach, sitting down heavily to let the man know that, no, he was not going to move any further. Voldemort smirked.

"The house elves tell me that you haven't touched one of your meals. Do you really think, Harry, that if I were going to kill you I would do it by poisoning you? You have been living under my roof, helpless, for days. If I were going to kill you I would have done it already. If you do not eat the next meal that is delivered to you, I shall be forced to punish you. If you do, I will give you one hour of time outside. The choice is yours. Do try to make the correct one. I really don't want to harm you," Voldemort said, and Harry snorted. Voldemort ignored him.

"Now, I don't have much time at the moment. Once you have eaten and regained some strength I will send for you again. For now you are dismissed," Voldemort said, waving his hand. The house elf reappeared and bowed, before beckoning for Harry to follow. Harry did, only too happy to get away from that completely confusing and altogether unhinged man.

Once back in his room, Harry found another food dish waiting for him. He padded over, sniffed it, and knocked it to the floor. Let Voldemort punish him.

_I really wish you hadn't done that, Harry. _

Harry looked around for the source of the voice and realized that it came from inside his head. He didn't have time to think about it, however, before he felt a whip lash across his back. He howled in pain, spinning around to see who was wielding the whip, and felt another lash across his snout. The gash was deep. There was no one in the room. He was defenseless. The next lashing hit his left side, and the next wrapped around his torso. Every single one hurt like the whip was on fire, and every single one drew blood. It wasn't until the tenth that he blacked out.

/

"Merlin, Harry," someone whispered above him sometime later. He felt himself being lifted but didn't have the energy to fight the person off. When he was put down, it was into a tub full of some floral-scented liquid that instantly seeped into his wounds and cooled them. He sighed with relief as he felt each one being soothed, the liquid easing the pain. He felt himself shifting back into his human form before he made the conscious decision to do so. He knew whoever this person was, and for some reason he felt safe.

The person, a man, gasped quietly but Harry couldn't be bothered to ask why. He felt so incredibly… good. Better than he'd ever felt. It was like he was floating on a cool cloud that was covered in the most wonderfully scented flowers.

"So good," he mumbled, trying to sink further into the tub.

"Oh, no you don't. If you drink this you'll be out of your mind for days. The fumes are bad enough. I need you at full mental capacity, small as it may be," the man said and Harry laughed.

"Severus," he said, giggling. Of _course _it was Severus.

"I think it's time to get you out, Potter," Severus said, reaching under Harry and lifting him out of the tub. Harry could feel the rough material of Snape's robes on his back and thighs.

Oh, he was naked then. He giggled some more, flopping back unceremoniously in Snape's arms.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! Stop that, Potter, or I'll drop you on your head," Snape snarled.

Harry opened his eyes then, looking up at his Potions professor and smiling serenely. "Soooooo grumpy all the time," he said, poking the bubble around Snape's head.

"Quit that! If you pop this now I'll be breathing in the Flourus Stratecus and then we'll both be rolling around on the floor like blithering idiots," Snape snapped, dropping Harry on the bed and walking over to the wardrobe. He tossed first a pair of pants, then a shirt, then a robe at Harry and left the room without looking back. Harry heard the bathtub draining and flopped back into the pillows.

"Silly Severus Snape," he said, then giggled again. His head was so fuzzy. So pleasantly fuzzy.

Except then it started to clear. First he felt the wound on his face. Then he remembered why he had that. Then he remembered the other wounds. Then he remembered where he was.

"Oh, Merlin," he said.

"Oh, Merlin!" he said again, realizing he was naked. Hastily, he pulled on the pants just as he heard Snape coming back into the room.

"I see you're remembering the severity of the situation," Severus said, waving his wand to cancel the bubble head charm.

Harry tried to stand, but his legs gave out almost instantly. He would have crashed to the floor if not for the strong pair of arms that encircled his waist and held him upright.

"You lost a lot of blood, Potter, and I've been told that it has been three days since you've eaten. You are weak. You need food and blood replenishing potions. Then we'll talk," Snape said, setting Harry back down on the bed. Harry groaned as he felt his muscles protest.

"Drink this. I made it myself," Severus said, placing a bowl in front of Harry on a hovering tray. Harry sniffed it and his stomach churned.

"I can't eat. I'll be sick," Harry said, clutching his stomach.

"That's because you _haven't _eaten in so long. It's just broth with a few carrot bits. Take a bite, Potter, or I will not hesitate to spoon feed you," Snape said. Harry looked up to see Snape standing with his arms crossed over his chest and glaring. He was wearing a pair of bottle green robes and his hair was tied back at the nape of his neck. He looked furious.

"Okay, okay. I'll try," Harry said, scooping out a spoonful of the broth and putting it into his mouth. For just being broth, it tasted heavenly. He ate a few more bites before Snape reached over and crumbled some crackers into it. Harry gulped them down greedily. Before he knew it he was tipping the bowl back trying to swallow every last drop. He was ravenous.

"Is there any more?" he asked, hopeful.

"No," said Snape, taking the bowl away. "If you eat any more you'll be sick. I will bring you something else later."

"Thank you, Professor. For that potion, and the food. I don't know why you're here, but I'm glad that you are," Harry said, rubbing his arm in embarrassment.

"You might not be so glad later. Here, drink this," Snape said, holding a flask out to Harry.

Harry did, without question. It was blood replenishment potion. He recognized it from class.

Severus was about to berate the boy for accepting food _and _a potion without examining them first when he realized that he wouldn't have done it if he didn't trust him. Harry Potter trusted him. With his life, apparently. Severus was obviously there because he was working for the Dark Lord. He easily could have poisoned Harry, or worse. And yet the thought didn't even cross the boy's mind. Severus tried not to be too happy at the prospect.

"How long have you been at the mansion?" Harry asked when he had flipped the top back onto the flask.

"Only for a little less time than you have been. The Dark Lord called me the afternoon that you were taken. I wasn't permitted to see you until after he punished you. I believe he got a little carried away. You almost didn't make it," Severus said, trying hard not to remember how it felt to walk in and find Harry crumpled on the floor and bleeding to death.

"That potion. What was it?" Harry asked, looking up at Severus again.

Severus' breath caught when his eyes met those emerald ones. The boy was half naked, dragon pendant resting snugly in the middle of his chest, hair disheveled. The cuts on his body had nearly all faded. Only the one across his nose remained. He reached out and touched it, healing it silently, and drew his hand back. Harry was staring at him strangely, so he looked away.

"It's a potion I created. It is only to be used in dire situations. It works by infiltrating the wounds and speeding up the healing process. It makes your cells work in over time, which is part of the reason you were so weak. It is also a powerful hallucinogen. As you noticed, merely inhaling the fumes can addle your mind. It's dangerous if used by the wrong person. No one but myself knows of it," Severus explained as he magically cleaned the rug of blood stains.

"I'm glad you're here," Harry said again, and Severus' heart clenched.

He hadn't been asked to do anything particularly horrid yet since he'd come, but he was afraid that it was only a matter of time. Would Harry be so happy to see him once he saw some of the things that the Dark Lord was likely to make him do? Could he deal with it when their fragile bond was broken?

Suddenly the door opened, and Severus turned sharply to snap at whoever had entered.

"What do you want?" he asked sharply and the house elf squeaked.

"Master wishes to know how the boy is doing," the elf whispered, looking at the floor and wringing her hands.

"Not well. I need more time. Go now," Severus snapped, and the elf was gone.

When Severus turned back around Harry had once more turned back into his animagus form. He was standing on the bed, alert, ears back.

"What are you doing?" Severus asked, and Harry cocked his head to the side.

"You can change back now," Severus said, but Harry shook his head vigorously and snorted.

"If you don't change back I won't be able to make sure you're properly healed." Severus was becoming exasperated. He walked over to Harry and crossed his arms, glaring.

Harry seemed to be having a dilemma, looking first up and Severus, then back to the door, then back to Severus again. Finally he heaved one big breath and shifted back into his human form. He was, Severus noted, still shirtless.

"That's better," Severus said, pretending to look over Harry for wounds. He knew that his potion was flawless, though, and didn't need to look in order to see that Harry was fully healed.

"Have you come to take me home?" Harry asked and Severus stopped what he was doing to look at the boy.

"No," he said, simply.

Harry just nodded, not looking surprised in the least.

"So… do you work for Voldemort, then?" Harry asked, his eyes not quite meeting Severus'.

"You saw in your fourth year that I had the dark mark, Potter," Severus said, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Yeah… But even then, when I hated you, I didn't think… Well I thought you'd switched sides," Harry said, chewing on his bottom lip in a manner which Severus refused to find attractive.

Severus cursed. He couldn't talk about this in the Dark Lord's _home, _for the love of Merlin! But he didn't want the boy to think he was still working for Voldemort, either.

Severus gently took Harry's chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned the boy's head so their eyes met. He stared directly into those emerald orbs and tried his damnedest to get his message across.

"Potter, my loyalties have not changed. That's all you need to know," he said, trying to convey the fact that he meant his loyalties to _Dumbledore _hadn't changed without actually saying it. Severus tried desperately not to think about the fact that he and Harry were inches apart, Harry was sitting on a bed, and Harry also just happened to be shirtless.

"I see," Harry said, smiling a little half-smile that Severus hoped meant that the boy understood.

"Good. Now, the Dark Lord wishes to see you again," Severus said, letting Harry's chin go and turning around before he did something he regretted. "I'm to escort you. You'd better put a shirt on."

He found out when he turned around, though, that putting a shirt on wasn't an issued. Harry was once more a dog, and absolutely nothing Severus said or did could get him to change back. So, sighing in exasperation, Severus led the way out of Harry's room. Harry padded along so closely that he almost tripped Severus a fair few times, but Severus couldn't bring himself to care. There were too many other things on his mind. Like how the _hell _they were going to get out of this mess.

**Reviiiiieeeewww! K thanks **


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: So it's been quite some time… I won't say how long, because I'm sure you know and I am ashamed to say it! Here's another chapter for you, my loyal readers, if there are any of you left! Also, due to my recent obsession with Lord of the Rings, I've started a Lord of the Rings crossover which should be up sometime in the near future. Check it out and let me know what you think. **

Harry walked through the now familiar library, Snape at his side as usual, and up to the Dark Lord. Snape bowed deeply, but Harry resolutely refused. He stood ramrod straight with his hands clasped behind his back. There had been no further attacks on his person, and as promised by Voldemort he was allowed a small amount of time in the gardens of the estate they were residing in each day so long as he ate his meals. It had been, by Harry's estimate, one week and four days since his capture.

"Potter, bow," said Snape stiffly, but Harry just looked straight at Voldemort and didn't budge an inch.

"Do not fret, Severus, I am not a dictator," said Voldemort, his voice rolling over Harry like warm honey. Harry snorted and Voldemort looked at him, not sharply or harshly, but as if he were studying him.

"I know my actions in the past would suggest otherwise, Harry, but I am not the man I once was. I'm afraid that I rather lost my mind for some time, but my senses have returned to me and I want nothing more than to live in peace." Voldemort sounded convincing, even to Harry, but Harry refused to buy into his lies.

"Then why am I a prisoner here, Voldemort?" Harry asked sharply, and ignored Snape's gasp at his audacity.

"Prisoner? I wouldn't really call you my prisoner. More like my guest." Voldemort stood then, and walked slowly and thoughtfully over to one of the large windows. "You see, Harry, you are a key player in how the public views things these days. If you like the color purple, the color purple is the most popular color in wizarding Britain. If you like to fly, broom sales shoot through the roof. To have you as an endorser, well," Voldemort said, turning to look at Harry at last. "You understand what I'm saying, don't you? I need you, Harry Potter, to approve of me in so far as the public is concerned."

"You _murdered_ my parents! And countless other innocent people, might I add. You think that I will _ever _endorse you? Publically or otherwise? You say you were once mad, but I think you're madder now than you've ever been!" Harry snapped, and he felt electricity spark across his fingertips.

"Come now, Harry, you see me as a monster now...but you don't have to, Harry. Really, I think you could find I'm quite attractive." Harry looked once more at the man before him and suddenly his perspective was changed. This wasn't Voldemort, not really. This was Tom Riddle. His skin glowed, as if it had been recently touched by sunlight. His curls were full and springing, and Harry wanted to reach out and touch them to see if they were real-but no! This was the Dark Lord! And the Dark Lord had a long neck with smooth skin.

Harry shook his head in irritation and tried to clear it. "Stop it! Whatever spell you're using, just stop it!" He yelled, clenching his fists at his sides and trying his best not to look back at Voldemort.

"Come, Harry, stop this at once. You haven't given me a chance. I can be anything you want me to be and you… yes, you will find that being by my side can be quite… extraordinary." Riddle's tone was warmer and more seductive than ever, each word holding a promise he couldn't quite help but believe in some part of him.

Harry fought his feelings. He knew, somewhere, that they weren't real, but whatever Riddle was doing to him it was incredibly effective and he found himself confused and foggy. He shivered when a hand reached out to run over his cheek, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He bit his lip to keep from saying anything and, using every ounce of willpower he possessed, he reached up and slapped the hand away.

Like that, as if the sound of skin smacking skin had flipped a switch in him, the spell was broken and though Voldemort was still his attractive human-looking self, Harry no longer felt an uncontrollable need to reach out and touch him.

"I can see I will make no more progress at this moment," Voldemort said, reaching up and adjusting a lock of his hair. "Severus, take him to his room. Harry, you will join me for dinner this evening instead of taking it in your room. I will hear no protests, and should you choose not to show up… well, you won't like the consequences."

Harry stood up tall and proud, looking Voldemort straight in his almost-red eyes, letting him know how little that threat frightened him; still, he couldn't help but remember the last time he had been punished. He shivered slightly at the remembrance of the invisible whips lashing across his back like ropes of hot coal. No, he wasn't in a hurry to repeat that.

When it appeared obvious that no answer was forthcoming from Harry, Snape grabbed his arm and started to pull him out of the room. Loathe as he always was to turn his back on Voldemort, Harry did so and followed his keeper quickly out of the library and back to his "cell" as he liked to call it. Snape all but shoved him into the room before him, slamming the door and locking it afterwards.

Before Harry had time to react, Snape had grabbed the front of his robes and spun them, slamming Harry against the door with a fierce snarl on his face. "What the hell did you think you were doing, Potter? Do you _want _to get yourself killed?"

Harry gulped and his heartbeat soared. "I won't let him treat me like a slave! Dammit, I'm _tired _of being here, Snape! I don't like sitting here and feeling like I can't do anything. I don't like being prisoner, and don't like not knowing which side you belong to! Why haven't you – " Harry's tirade was cut short when Snape's lips came crashing down on him, pushing, kissing, biting until Harry didn't know which way was up and which way was down. He knew their situation was dire, and he knew Remus was waiting for him somewhere, but he also couldn't help but think that he'd never fit so perfectly against someone before in his life.

With considerable effort Harry turned his head to the side to break the kiss, panting, and felt Snape let go of his robes and drop his head on his shoulder. He didn't know if the kiss was supposed to be a message to him that Snape was on his side, or if it was to shut him up, or if it was just to throw him for a loop but it certainly accomplished the latter. Snape had been his constant companion for the past week, and though Harry questioned his loyalty sometimes he knew how good of a man he actually was and that he was doing all he could to keep Harry safe. The friendship that had been budding between them before the kidnapping had certainly bloomed, as friendships often do in dire circumstances. Nothing bonds two people together quite like risking their lives with one another. Still, he never honestly thought about anything more than friendship with the man, though he would openly admit that he'd begun to view him as attractive.

"What was that?" Harry asked, noticing with relief that his voice didn't crack as he'd expected it to.

Snape didn't answer him for a moment, just stood there against Harry, breathing. Then he pulled away, running his hands through his hair and pacing away. "Do you know how much it frightened me to see you speaking to the Dark Lord that way? I've seen what he does to people, Harry. I've seen him rend a person limb from limb. Slowly and painfully, laughing at their cries and relishing the blood spilling on his robes." Snape turned back to him, pleading with his eyes for Harry to listen.

"He has murdered brutally for far less than someone talking back to him or, Merlin, hitting him. Harry, I don't want to see that happen to you. I was terrified, do you understand? What would I tell everyone when they asked what had become of you? What if you…" Snape trailed off, heated and angry about his emotions. He was not, as a rule, an emotional person but he had been on edge and barely sleeping for over a week now and he was beginning to feel the consequences. It was becoming more and more difficult for him to fight back his impulses, for him to remain the stony and emotionless bastard people saw him as. And then Harry, that stupid beautiful boy, had to go and flirt with death and Snape felt the breath leave his breast and he knew in that instant that he would gladly die before seeing Harry murdered.

"He won't kill me, Snape," Harry said, placating, still not understanding why Snape had kissed him but understanding that for whatever reason Snape had needed it.

"He will, Potter, it is just a matter of time. He is toying with you now, trying to get you on his side, using spells and enchantments to make himself appealing, but rest assured that one day he will tire of your obstinacy and you will die a slow and horrible death." Snape said earnestly.

"Then we will just have to get me out of here before that happens, won't we?" Harry replied.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

Harry was issued a pair of green dress robes to wear to dinner which matched his eyes spectacularly. Snape thought he looked altogether too handsome to be going to dinner with the Dark Lord, and as he gently pulled the pendant out from under Harry's shirt and set it in the center of his chest, where he knew the Dark Lord would want to see it, he wished for nothing more than to be able to get Harry out of this situation. Snape had chosen to be a spy many years ago, and it was his job to live amongst the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord, but Harry was young still and in Snape's foolishness he, like everyone else, thought him too tender to deal with the things he was to see as of yet.

Harry, though, had a will unlike any in his generation and it was only a matter of time before that was tested and proven. Harry Potter looked at himself in the floor-length mirror and knew that no matter what happened he would get out of this situation and it would be he, and not Voldemort, who proved the validity of the prophesy. He'd been idle for far too long, and it was high time he began to do something about his situation. He would play Voldemort's game for a while, but soon he would make his move.

**It's short, I know, but there will hopefully be more to come. I have a question to pose to you, my lovely readers. Where do you want this story to go? What are some things you would like to see, and am I going down a road you all dislike? I have some semblance of an idea for where I want it to end up, but I find as I continue to write that my characters might not want to go down the road I've chosen for them. So what do **_**you**_** think?**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Thank you for your input, everyone! I really appreciate it. Many of your ideas went right along with my own, so thankfully I'm headed in the right direction! You all keep me going. **

**Chapter 14**

The dining room was large for two people, and extravagantly decorated. The table was set with two plates and glasses, and candles were flickering softly in the centerpieces. Severus had no doubt that the meal would be a four course affair, indulgently rich and tasteful, and would have a normal person in a normal date situation swooning. Personally, he felt it was over-the-top and he had no idea why the Dark Lord thought Harry would fall for that type of finery.

Voldemort himself was standing at one end of the table, hands folded behind his back, and wearing a pair of rich crimson robes which made the all-too-human blush on his cheeks stand out. His hair was immaculate, and around his neck was a snake pendant with Slytherin green eyes and a ruby-red tongue. He looked roguish and handsome, which Severus was sure was his intent.

"You are dismissed, Severus," said the Dark Lord, not looking at Severus at all but rather maintaining as much eye contact with his captive, Harry, as possible. Severus knew that he was using his charm spell again on Harry, wandlessly and wordlessly such was his skill, and wished desperately that there was something he could do to break it. Already though, much to his surprise and relief, he saw Harry shake his head and blink, looking away with a stony expression. Severus silently applauded him and felt instantly better about leaving him alone with Voldemort.

"My Lord," Severus said, bowing deeply and backing out of the lavish dining room. He would have argued to stay, but he knew Harry would be punished for it. It appeared that the boy was in no immediate danger; for whatever reason, the Dark Lord wanted to be on his good side, a fact which made Severus' skin crawl. Still, Severus felt it was okay to leave the boy unwatched for some time, so he started the trek through the manor to his rooms.

When Severus made it to his rooms (directly across the hall from Harry's so he could better keep an eye on the boy, as per the Dark Lord's request), he immediately undressed and got into a steamy shower. He sighed deeply as the hot water ran in rivulets down his body, working better than any magic to relieve the tension in his shoulders, back, and neck.

Severus hadn't slept more than a handful of hours in the time since Harry disappeared, and it was starting to wear on him. He recalled his lapse earlier when he'd told Harry how he was feeling. He could have kicked himself for such an unsavory display of emotion. He sighed again and rested his forehead against the shower wall, breathing in the steam which seemed to clear his thoughts. He needed sleep, loathe though he was to take it in such a precarious situation. Soon he would be useless to everyone, a blithering emotion fool, should he not let his body and mind rest.

When he was done with his shower he dried off and took out of his bag a vile of dreamless sleep potion, half a dose at best, but enough for a few hours' uninterrupted sleep. No sooner had he swallowed the last drop and fell into bed, naked as was his custom, than he was asleep with nothing but darkness and blissful empty thoughts filling his head.

Harry was frustrated. He wanted so badly to resist whatever Voldemort was doing to him, and yet with every word the man uttered, every little laugh like dark honey, Harry felt his resistance weakening. He tried to focus on what little Occlumency he'd learned, knowing instinctually that whatever spell or charm Voldemort was using had to do with ensnaring the mind; however, it was proving next to futile. His will was strong, but Voldemort's was nearly equally strong.

"More wine, Harry?" Tom – no, Voldemort! – offered, holding out a golden pitcher full of the sweetest wine Harry had ever tasted. Without knowing what he was doing, Harry held out his glass and let it be re-filled. Voldemort's eyes glittered in triumph, a small victory but a victory nonetheless, and then he set down the pitcher and continued his conversation. It was relatively one-sided, but that was all he needed.

Harry was slipping, a mess inside his own head, fading in and out of awareness as he felt the spells wrapping around his mind and his own magic reached out to cut them off. No longer was he fully conscious of what his magic was doing, but magic often works itself out even when its host is unaware and it was fighting for Harry when he no longer could. Every once in a while, through the fog, Harry would come to and realize what was happening and give an extra push of his own towards severing the enchantment.

By the end of the meal Harry's head was reeling and he'd never felt to befuddled in his life. He had been warring with the spells Voldemort was casting all night, going back and forth from being enchanted to adamantly resisting the pull. His magic was becoming worn out from all of the work. His brain was nearly fried and he felt as a seashell without its muscle; empty and hollow with nothing but the salty ocean water slipping through its space. Dazedly, he realized the meal was over and he and Tom were standing outside his rooms. How they got there he had no clue, but there they were and Tom was saying something which Harry felt should be important.

" – and see the far side of the gardens tomorrow, should you feel up to it." Harry only caught the last part of the sentence, but he realized then that there was a warm hand on his neck. He looked up dazedly, and that was his downfall for when he made eye contact with Tom Riddle, something he'd been avoiding all night, he could no longer resist the pull and he was caught in the snare of the spell.

"That sounds wonderful," Harry said, eyes glazed, and not noticing Tom's grin of victory.

"Come to me in the library when you wake, Harry, you know the way. I'll be waiting for you," Tom said, and Harry smiled sweetly at his handsome suitor. Something was pricking the back of his mind, trying urgently to remind him of something, but then Tom kissed him and Harry was lost once more.

"Good night," Harry said when the kiss was broken, and Tom chuckled as Harry opened his door and walked into his room. He undressed there and fell immediately into a deep sleep.

Harry awoke the next morning to a hand urgently shaking him and he frowned. Swatting the hand away, he rolled over and hugged the extra pillow to him, content in his familiar, warm, fluffy bed.

"Potter, wake up immediately before I hex you," Snape said, and Harry cracked an eye open to see said man standing above him with his hands on his hips. Harry wasn't sure why, but Snape somehow reminded him of a short portly woman with flaming red hair. Harry knitted his brows together, trying to think of such a person in his life and then shook his head putting it off as a flight of fancy.

"I'm not ready to get up, Snape, just give me a few more minutes won't you?" Harry mumbled into his pillow.

"The Dark Lord wishes to see you by noon, Potter, and it is already ten thirty. You need to shower and get dressed!" Snape pulled the covers off of him with gusto, exposing Harry in nothing but his boxers and one black sock.

"Tom wants to see me?" Harry said, bolting up and feeling his heart race. "I'll hurry, then."

Harry jumped out of bed and was halfway to the bathroom when Snape grabbed his arm and he came to a screeching halt.

"Tom?" Snape asked, voice laced with trepidation.

"Yes, Tom. You just told me he wanted to see me, remember?" Harry was getting irritated and impatient. He didn't want to be late to see Tom! He remembered vaguely something about them taking a walk to the far end of the gardens, but the memory was fuzzy, at best. Had he had too much wine the night before? He wasn't sure, but he couldn't seem to remember a single thing clearly.

That thought gave him pause. Why couldn't he remember? He knitted his eyebrows together and tried to search back to the night before but found he couldn't. There was the insistent buzzing again, poking at his mind and trying to get him to recall something. His head flared in pain suddenly, and he saw sparks swim before his eyes, but before he could so much as cry out the feeling was gone. He shook his head in bewilderment and turned back to Snape.

"What were we talking about again?" he asked, and Snape let go of his arm as if he'd been burned.

"You were going to meet Voldemort," Snape said, taking the risk of uttering the Dark Lord's name for the sake of confirming his suspicions.

"Voldemort? He doesn't go by that name anymore, Snape. He's changed and you know it. Call him Tom, okay? I'm going to have a bath now, okay? Do you think you could get me something clean to wear?"

Without so much as glancing in Snape's direction, Harry wandered into the bathroom and shut the door. Snape heard him humming as he turned on the tap to run his bath. Shaken, he fell back into the chair next to the wardrobe. Merlin, they were in for it now. Voldemort had finally gotten hold of Harry and Severus wasn't quite sure how he was going to break that spell. If he knew Voldemort, which he did, then it was sure to be an ancient, potent spell and it wasn't likely the cure would be found in _Mathilda's Many Medications of Magical Maladies._ Besides that, if their theory was correct about the magic the Dark Lord was tapping into summoning demons, then surely he had some demonic power on his side.

He needed to speak to Albus, and quickly. He just wasn't quite sure how he was going to get away. Being Severus Snape and all, though, he was sure he could come up with something. Thus satisfied and thinking of a plan, Severus got up and pulled out a pair of robes for Harry to wear to his meeting with Voldemort, set them on the bed, and sat back down to quietly wait and plot.

He hardly noticed Harry come out of the shower, though he did take a moment to appreciate his nearly naked form (it couldn't be helped, after all, since he was obviously becoming smitten with the stupid boy). Once he was dressed Severus led him out and to the library. He noticed, with considerable dismay, that Harry had a certain spring in his step and the weight he had been carrying on his shoulders seemed to be no more. He spoke with Harry little, but every question he asked was meant to probe Harry, and see to what extent the spell reached.

"So, how do you think Remus is doing?" Severus said, and Harry's step faltered. Severus stopped with him and watched closely as Harry thought. A frown came upon Harry's face and he seemed to be thinking deeply about something when suddenly there was a look as if of pain and then his eyes seemed to glaze over. Harry shook his head a moment and then the look was gone and his face brightened once more.

"Sorry, what was that, Snape?" he asked. Not complete control, then. Harry seemed to be fighting whatever hold the Dark Lord had over him. Thank Merlin.

"I was just asking if you knew it was supposed to rain today."

"No, I didn't know that. That's alright. I don't mind a bit of rain, really. It makes me feel like the world is new again, you know?" The reply was so similar to what Harry had remarked to him under the gazebo that it took Snape aback for a moment. He wondered about the spell and if Harry remembered anything before his time here.

There was no time to probe further, though, as they had reached the library and the Dark Lord was standing by the large windows with his hands folded behind his back. He seemed to be looking out upon the grounds, and the sunlight hit his face in such a way that Severus knew the pose was intentionally meant to show his better side. Severus, though, was not under his spell and could therefore see the tall-tale hint of red rimming his irises. _Dirty snake._ He thought.

Outwardly, Snape sniveled and bowed as he usually would. He was glad for his mastery in Occlumency, for Voldemort would have seen him as a traitor much sooner had he not mastered the art.

"My Lord," Severus began, putting his plan into action. "I have been away from my other…job for some time now, and I am afraid my employer might be becoming suspicious of my actions. Perhaps you would grant me a small leave to check in, so that I may alleviate any uncertainties they may have."

Under normal circumstances Severus would never have dared to ask so bold a question. It was an unspoken rule that one did not ask the Dark Lord for anything. He was all-knowing, and when he deemed you ready to leave, you could leave. It was Severus' suspicion, though, that he would want to put on his best face in front of Harry, so new was the spell that it might be easily broken should some upset happen in the boy's presence. The flash of irritation in the Dark Lord's eyes, quickly stifled, and his plastic smile confirmed his thought.

"Of course you may go, Severus, you are not prisoner here. Do not tarry though, because I have a few things for you to do upon your return. You may go now."

Severus could tell how much it pained the Dark Lord to say what he did, but Harry was grinning in turn at each of them and he could not voice his actual feelings on the matter. Severus was sure that he would suffer for his insolence later, but the need was dire. He had to see Albus and discuss this new development immediately.

"Thank you, My Lord, I shall return with all due haste," Severus said, bowing once more before calmly exiting the room and shutter the door behind him. Once the door was shut, though, he immediately began running until he was out the doors, across the front grounds, out the gate, and out of bounds of the anti-apparation spells. With little thought he was gone with a 'pop', the familiarly uncomfortable tight feeling overcoming him before it was gone as suddenly as it had begun and he was standing in his sitting room.

There were nine wands pointed at him immediately, and he took a moment to be grateful that he wasn't the only vigilant one in their little group. Remus lowered his wand first, looking anxious, then Albus, Granger, the Weasley twins, the youngest male Weasley, Molly and Arthur, and finally Black.

"Severus!" Albus exclaimed. "I am relieved to see you in one piece. We were worried, my friend."

"Where's Harry?" Black snarled, and though no one else said anything Severus could see the looks of agreement on the others' faces.

"I'm afraid we've hit a rough spot," he said simply, and then immediately launched into his telling of the past few weeks. It wasn't truly a long story, but he was interrupted constantly, much to his irritation, and it took nearly thrice as long as it should have.

The ever-clever Granger looked like she was about to burst with the need to run to the nearest library and research whatever spell Harry was under, Remus was deep in thought, there were many frustrated faces, but it was Albus who finally realized what spell was used. Severus noticed, for some reason at that moment, how close Lupin and Black were sitting; their thighs were pressed fully together so that they almost looked like the same person, though there was at least one empty seat elsewhere in the room. He raised his eyebrow at Lupin and said man blushed, pulling away from Black. _Well, well. Isn't this an interesting development?_ He thought, before Albus began to speak and he gave the old wizard his undivided attention.

"This is not a spell, Severus, but an old enchantment. Indeed, it is very old. If it is as I fear, our Harry is in most grievous circumstances. It would explain much." Albus looked troubled, and twice his age if that were possible. His tone was serious, and all in the room were waiting with bated breath, so silent it was nearly oppressive, for him to finish his thought. When they heard the rest of it, nearly every person in the room wished they hadn't.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Well, ladies and gents, I'm alive! I've been sitting on this chapter fighting writer's block for longer than I care to admit. If it seems a little forced at first…well, that's because it is! I need to force my way past this hump, so I'm straining to keep going haha. **

**Chapter Fifteen**

"Long ago, before witches and wizards formed the society we know today, muggles did know about us. They knew about us and they feared us." Severus knew this, and he was sure that Granger and most of the older generation in the room did, too. Most, because Black certainly wasn't paying much attention during History of Magic while they were in school.

"We teach this history at Hogwarts during third year," Albus continued, and the Weasely children all looked away at once. Clearly, they hadn't paid attention either. "What we don't teach, however, is _why_ they feared us."

"What do you mean _why?_" asked Black. "I thought it was because they feared the unknown or some other such nonsense."

"Well, in some cases yes. But times were dark, and those with magic had no guidance. They were outcasts, and so many became bitter and much evil came of it. Morgana, Merlin's sworn enemy, was one such case. In her time, should a person be caught using magic they were burned at the stake. Morgana was powerful, though, and for many years she built her power and learned ancient magicks, new magicks, which she used to gain followers. It is important to note that Morgana was very beautiful and very vain."

Everyone in the room was listening now, for, though all of them had heard of Morgana, very few had learned much about her aside from the fact that she was Merlin's enemy and he defeated her.

"Time touches everyone, no matter how badly we want to prevent it from doing so, and when Morgana began to age such was the decay of her mind that she became obsessed with preventing it. She spent many years trying to invent a spell to make her young and immortal, and she all but disappeared from the planet for a time. When she was heard of once more Merlin was as old as I am now, and Arthur was a magnificent king. Magic was becoming less feared, and less known. Merlin had begun to lead our people to what we are today. Morgana, though, had become so mad in her absence that there was no reaching her. She was lost, taken in and corrupted by the dark magic she had been tampering with. She had also found a way to remain young. Though Merlin's hair was as white as snow, Morgana still looked no more than thirty years of age and seemed to be getting younger with every sighting."

"Begging your pardon, Headmaster, but what does this have to do with Harry?" one of the Weasely twins, Severus wasn't sure which, asked and his mother hit him upside the head and told him to hush. All of the other Weasleys in the room rolled their eyes, and then turned their attention back to Albus. He was staring into the fire now, his fingers entwined, waiting patiently for everyone to quiet down so he could continue.

"I fear that it has everything to do with Harry, and by the end of my story much about the past few months might be explained. Merlin hunted Morgana, though she always seemed to be one step ahead of him. At every one of her vacated dwellings he found, to his horror, bodies. These bodies were withered, like fruits sucked of all moisture, and a terrible suspicion began growing in Merlin's heart. He knew most of the people who were found dead at her many hiding places, and every single one of them was a witch or a wizard. One day Morgana became careless, and Merlin found her. There were two withered bodies in her home, and one handsome young wizard, prominent in their community in fact due to his level of magic, who didn't seem to realize what was going on around him. Merlin fought Morgana and, as we know, won after a very long and tiresome battle. As she lay dying the young man threw himself upon her body, screaming at the top of his lungs in his sorrow. "My love!" he cried. "My poor, beautiful lady! Do not leave me!" Such was his grief that he very nearly took his own life, and had Merlin not stopped him in time he would have." Dumbledore stopped to take a breath for a moment, looking more troubled than ever. An oppressive silence had descended upon the room, thick and dark like tar, and they all waited with heavy hearts for Albus to continue.

A suspicion was growing among them, small at first, but branching out and taking root in all of their hearts. They did not discuss it amongst themselves, yet every one of them was thinking back to article in the Daily Profit some time ago; an article about a ministry official being drained of magic.

"Once Morgana died, the spell relinquished its hold on the man, and from him Merlin learned this: Morgana had found a way to stay young presumably forever, but the effects were not permanent. She accomplished this by ensnaring young witches and wizards and eating their magic."

"_Eating _their magic?" Black said, his look of outrage and disgust mirrored on every face in the room. "Do you mean to tell me that Voldemort is _eating magic_ in order to stay young forever?" He sounded rightfully incredulous.

"I do not think his reasons are as vain as staying young, Sirius, but it is my belief that Voldemort thinks he can gain power and immortality by using this method. He was quiet for a long time, and I do think that during that time he was searching for Morgana's memoirs. I think he found them, and I think he is using that curse," Albus said, blue eyes taking in each person in turn.

"Okay," said Granger, looking thoughtful. "Okay, let's say this is what Voldemort was doing. It would make a lot of sense, sure, but then why hasn't he eaten Harry's magic yet? He's had him for long enough, surely."

"You did not let me finish my tale, Miss Granger. Allow me to go on." Such was everyone's curiosity that they immediately sat back down and allowed the headmaster to finish. "It was not possible for Morgana to take the magic from someone unless they were willing. Her earlier experiments showed her that, should a person be unwilling, the consequences of the act were dire. Morgana nearly lost her life many times before she found out how to properly steal a person's power, for the magic she was using was of the absolute darkest variety, and when her victim was unwilling the veil between worlds was thin. Dark things escaped, and many of them tried to kill the sorceress. Yes, just like the creature which attacked Harry not so long ago. As you can imagine, risking her life every time she tried to extend it was less than desirable. She invented another enchantment. This enchantment, over time, made her victims become so ensnared by her that they willingly performed the spell to remove their magic on themselves, and once they were drained completely Morgana absorbed it all and so could remain young and powerful until the effects wore off and she had to find another quarry." Albus sat back in his chair then, clearly finished with his piece, but no one was able to say a word due to their overwhelming sense of shock.

"So you think Voldemort has put that enchantment on Harry?" Remus said at length, and he sounded breathless and frightened. It was a terrifying concept indeed, to lose one's magic. It was such a part of wizards and witches that the thought of it going to someone else was enough to nearly make a heart stop in fear.

"That is my belief, yes, and I also believe that Harry is fighting it. He is strong, but if Voldemort has taken in the power of multiple people then I fear that it is only a matter of time before he is overcome. The enchantment is precarious, at first, but once its roots are planted it is nearly impossible to eradicate it. I am very afraid for Harry, my friends, and I fear for the wizarding world should Voldemort be able to absorb the power Harry has to offer. Harry is, quite possibly, brimming with more magic than most of us here and I have always feared that it might be discovered before he learned to unleash it." Albus turned to Severus, then, a most severe look on his face. "You need to get back there, Severus, and do all that you can to help Harry fight. Talk about his loved ones, remind him of his relationship with Remus, make him angry with you, show him a picture of his parents. Do whatever you can to tickle his memory until we can get to him."

That brought a very serious question to Severus' mind, one which he hadn't thought to ask until that moment. "Why _haven't _you come, Albus? I sent the location to you weeks ago."

"I'm afraid, Severus, that we never received such a message." Albus knitted his brows together in thought.

"Well, I'll tell you then. The location is – " Severus started, but couldn't seem to continue. He quite literally choked on his words when he tried. He tried twice more before going red in the face and picking up a nearby glass and throwing it at the wall in frustration. The loud clang and shatter wasn't nearly as satisfying as he expected it to be, though, and he found that he was still immensely frustrated and down one crystal glass to boot.

Albus laid a hand on his forearm to calm him, sighing. "I was afraid of that," he said. You have been bewitched as well, Severus. You will not be able to divulge any information about Voldemort's location, nor will you be able to take us there. There are many curses like this, and we will research it while you are gone to come up with a solution. For now, though, it is in your hands my boy."

"Isn't that just typical," Severus snorted, before marching out of the room and up to his own quarters to pack some more provisions.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Severus was right when he assumed he would pay for his insolence toward the Dark Lord upon his return. The cruciatus curse was delivered to him with a nonchalant flick of the man's wand the second Severus walked into the library to find his master waiting for him. Severus crumpled to the ground, screaming in agony. It wasn't as bad as he was making it out to be, but he had learned from experience that if he didn't voice his pain the Dark Lord would keep increasing the strength of the spell until screaming was entirely involuntary.

Severus was vaguely aware of smacking his head on the corner of a desk as he fell, and hitting his left ankle on the same desk as he writhed, but the hurt was quickly forgotten in the haze of pain the cruciatus caused. When the spell finally let up, after what seemed like hours, Severus was panting, his ankle was throbbing, and he felt a trickle of blood dripping down his face. Still, he rose shakily to his feet and bowed, watching detachedly as a drop of blood dripped off his face and sunk into the carpet underneath him.

"Thank you, My Lord," Severs said, as was customary if one could still speak after a punishment.

"Look at me, Severus."

He did. Severus straightened and looked at the man before him, registering for later contemplation that his eyes were completely red again. The Dark Lord didn't even look angry. He did not reprimand Severus, or warn him of what could befall him should there be any further transgressions. He simply stared unblinkingly at him for a very long time. It was enough. Severus knew how dire the punishment would be if he dared to pull something like that again.

"Bring the boy his dinner, Severus. I will be dining alone tonight. He knows that he is to meet me afterward in the gardens," said Voldemort, turning back to look out the window and dismissing Severus altogether.

"My Lord," said Severus, bowing once more and backing out of the room. Voldemort expected him to clean himself up before he went to the boy. It was unspoken, but understood all the same. It was a calculated risk, but Severus feigned ignorance. Perhaps seeing evidence of the man's cruelty would stir something in Potter, which was doubtlessly what the Dark Lord did not want to happen.

There was no answer when Severus knocked on the door to Potter's room, so he let himself in using the key which had been issued to him. He found the boy asleep in his bed, his hair surrounding him like a black halo, and his body nearly swallowed by all of the pillows and blankets.

"Remus…" Potter mumbled in his sleep, thrashing. "Remus, no!"

Severus set the tray of food down by the door and walked over to the bed. The boy's eyebrows were knit in pain, his forehead wrinkled, and a frown gracing his lips. Severus wondered what he was dreaming about that had him so distressed. He took a moment to be relieved that Potter knew who Remus was at least in his sleep. That was a good sign, to say the least.

"Severus!" the boy yelped, and Severus raised his eyebrow in surprise. "Please, please stop hurting Severus! Stop it!"

Whatever was happening, though Severus was intrigued, it was clearly upsetting the boy. Magic was crackling like lightning at his fingertips, and he was thrashing more wildly than ever. He knew he had to wake him up before the magic was let loose.

"Potter," he said, reaching out to shake the boy's shoulder. "Potter, wake up! It's just a dream. Wake up."

The boy in question bolted upright in bed, eyes wide, chest heaving and dripping with sweat. He looked around wildly for a moment before realizing where he was and relaxing his shoulders.

"Snape! I was having the worst dream," said Potter, looking down at his hands and trying to steady his breathing. "You were in it, and Tom… His eyes were red like blood, Snape, and he was…" The boy trailed off and took a deep breath before looking up at Severus. When he did he gasped and threw his covers off before kneeling on the bed in front of Severus and reaching out.

"Snape! How..? It was just a dream! What happened to you?" the boy seemed frantic, and Severus was suspicious.

"What did you dream of, Potter?" he asked, not daring to voice the thoughts that had immediately popped into his mind. Could it be?

"I-I dreamt that Tom was punishing you for something. You were screaming and you hit your head and…" He took a shaky breath. "But it's just a coincidence, right? Tom wouldn't do that to you… would he? I know he used to use the cruciatus curse a lot, but he's changed, right?"

Severus let nothing show outwardly, but hope sprung up in him so powerful he was hard pressed to keep it hidden. So Potter was still getting visions about what the Dark Lord was doing sometimes. That was a very good sign.

"Indeed," Severus said instead, turning around to grab the tray of food he'd brought. He made it a point to exaggerate his limp a little. He would say nothing to confirm nor deny Potter's suspicions, but if the boy could work it out himself… Well, that couldn't be helped, could it?

When he turned around again the boy was frowning, staring off out the window, though clearly not really seeing what he was looking at. Severus placed the food down on his bedside table and turned to go.

"Wait, Snape," said Potter and Severus stopped.

"I don't know what happened, and I don't expect you to tell me, but…let me clean that cut on your forehead, okay? You're losing more blood than I think you realize."

Severus was surprised. Under normal circumstances he would never allow Potter to tend to his wounds, but even though Potter did not have any memories outside of this manor, he clearly cared about Severus. Perhaps, if he let the boy get close, he could figure out a way to jog his memories without being too obvious about it.

"Okay," he said simply.

Potter got up and led him to the bathroom where he made him sit on the edge of the tub while he grabbed supplies.

"I don't have a wand, but for some reason I feel like I know how to clean and dress wounds without one. It might not heal as fast, but at least I can get rid of any possible infections," said Potter when he came back. He set the things he'd gathered on the counter and stepped up close to Severus with a white washcloth in hand.

Severus sat still and let the boy work. He slid the washcloth gently up Severus' chin, getting at the dried blood that had been running down his face, then moved on to his cheek before rinsing the washcloth in the sink and dabbing at the area of the wound.

"That's quite the nasty cut," he mumbled. Severus hummed in agreement, trying to ignore the heat he could feel radiating off of the boy – _man_, he amended.

"Oh, it's gone down your shirt, too," said Potter, before he deftly unbuttoned the top button on Severus' shirt and wiped the blood off with the warm rag. Severus couldn't help it. His breath hitched. Harry didn't notice.

When he was satisfied that all of the blood was cleaned up, Harry set down the rag and grabbed the bottle of antiseptic he'd picked up. "This is going to sting a little," he said, as he dabbed a soaked cotton ball on Severus' wound.

Severus was hyper aware of many things, though the pain from the antiseptic was not among them. He had felt far worse pain many times before. He did, however, feel Harry's leg against his thigh, his warm breath on his cheek, the soft and deft fingers on his jaw so he could tilt his head to a better angle. He felt the heat that was radiating off of the other man like it was a physical thing. He was almost sure that halfway through Harry became aware of these things, too, because Severus felt him stiffen and stop what he was doing for a moment and when he was putting on the bandage, there was a faint tremor to his fingers.

Harry stepped back, taking a deep breath when he was done and admired his handiwork. Severs dared not look up. He didn't want to scare him away, and he felt somehow that what was happening was important.

"There, that looks better," said Harry, and Severus looked up to see a crooked half-smile on the teen's face. Their eyes met, and Severus tried desperately to hold the gaze. He saw the smile slip from Harry's lips, and the teen shook his head in confusion for a moment. Fleeting recognition flashed across his eyes.

"I-" he began, but was cut off by a soft _pop _from behind him.

"Master Potter, sir, Master Riddle is wondering why you is not in the gardens where you said you would meet him," said the squeaky voice of a house-elf, and just like that the look of recognition in Harry's eyes vanished. Severus groaned inwardly.

"Oh, damn it all! I've forgotten about Vol – Tom!" Harry said, rushing to the other room to get dressed.

Severus sat on the edge of the tub for some time after the younger man left, contemplating what had happened.

_He'd forgotten. I don't think he meant he simply forgot the time. He __**really **__forgot. Not only that, but I swear he almost called the Dark Lord by the name Voldemort. _

Severus didn't know what had caused the relapse, but he knew for certain that he would be doing everything in his power to make it happen again.


End file.
